


promise i'm worthy (to hold in your arms)

by orphan_account



Series: One and Only [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, High School AU, M/M, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Stupid Boys, Teenagers, american douchebags, heightened melodrama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So come on and give me a chance to prove I am the one who can walk that mile."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	promise i'm worthy (to hold in your arms)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is me getting my feelings out regarding Patrick Kane and Tazer/Kaner by using high school tropes. I... had a lot to say. 
> 
> Thanks to liketheroad for being there since the start of this, helping me shape it, and basically being the best cheerleader and beta one could ask for. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The Kesler in this fic is clearly meant to be an au teenage version of him and he gets the role of the 'villain' if you will. Again, we're in high school here. The decision to have him in this role actually had nothing to do with him being a Canuck and everything to do with me going through the US Olympic team roster and wanted someone who is more well-known in fandom to get this key, if not actually desired, role. 
> 
> Other ridiculousness: This is set in 2005. If the grades don't match up, just go with it. I needed Kaner 16 at the start of the story. I'm doing the thing again where I use current song titles. We're hand-waving with the ages of some people, obviously. Warnings for high school cliches, heightened sense of melodrama, and my standard Cameron Crowe references. Title and summary by Adele. That song is my current canon Kaner/Tazer song but it fit here a bit, too. 
> 
> Johnny's crew:
> 
> Brad Marchand  
> Zach Parise  
> Brandon Dubinsky  
> Dustin Brown 
> 
> Kaner's crew:
> 
> Ryan Kesler  
> Phil Kessel  
> David Backes  
> Mike Komisarek

The weirdest thing about moving from Winnipeg to Buffalo at the start of twelfth grade, Johnny thinks, is the general obnoxiousness of American teenagers. Johnny’s dealt with his share of douches but it’s like they breed them differently on this side of the border. He makes it a point to find friends that somewhat match his group back home. Which is to say: kind of focused on whatever they’re passionate about, no slackers, and not simply interested in partying and getting wasted. Johnny already did that back home; he drank from a beer bong and made out with both a girl and a guy at a party and still to this day can’t remember which one of them gave him a hand job. After a few weeks of that he realized that getting stoned and drunk to the point that you literally can’t remember your own name isn’t his idea of fun.

People kind of stay away from him the first couple of weeks at school and David tells him that’s because he looks like a serial killer. When he threatens to pound David’s face in, his parents kind of agree, and Johnny realizes maybe that threat wasn’t exactly the way to prove them wrong. Instead, Johnny goes up to his room to play NHL on his Playstation where he can at least virtually beat some people up since he’s not actually a fighter in real life.

Johnny tries out for the school’s hockey team the next week and only has to skate for about a minute before the coach tells him he’s definitely made the cut. A few of the other guys give him looks, but Johnny can totally handle hockey guys and introduces himself, all Canadian politeness and handshakes. After talking to them a bit they seem to warm up to him, the initial sting of jealousy that Johnny’s used to having dissipated. 

Johnny just always gives sports everything he has, is the thing. It’s the way he’s always been, be it hockey, tennis, golf. One of the guys invites him out to Applebees after try-outs and Johnny goes along even though he’d rather be studying for his upcoming Trig test. 

When they enter there’s a group of guys waiting to be seated, and they’re essentially taking up the whole area. Some are standing, others are sitting on the window-seat type benches, and then there’s a blond kid with curly hair chewing on a toothpick and standing right near the hostess area. He gives the girl a coy smile while saying, “Come on, Jill, can’t you just make an exception? For me?” He literally bats his eyelashes and Johnny rolls his eyes. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Patrick? Seven or more and you all have to order.”

“And here I thought I was your favorite.”

She laughs loudly, throwing her head back. “Baby, you are _no ones_ favorite,” she says, waving towards Johnny to come closer.

“You’re lucky you don’t get tips!” Patrick (apparently) huffs and backs away to lean against a wall.

Johnny gives him the briefest glance before saying they’ll be five.

They stand at the opposite side of the waiting area and Zach whispers to Johnny that the other group are from a rival high school hockey team a few miles away who hand their asses to them each year.

Johnny looks over at them, only to find the Patrick guy staring him up and down. 

When he sees Johnny watching he nods his chin and says, “This your new recruit? He looks like a lumberjack.” 

The rest of his crew all laugh and Johnny realizes they’re all as generic as they come. 

“Yeah, and his hair looks like a dirty mop,” a weird looking guy with sandy hair chimes in. 

A dude with dark hair who is trying to look way too tough for his own good says, “Really, _Phil the Thrill?_ That’s what you come up with?” 

Phil mumbles something Johnny can’t hear while Brandon steps forward. 

“He’s from Canada and he’s gonna kick your ass on the ice, Kaner,” Brandon says to Patrick who is also apparently “Kaner” now. 

“Ohhhh, he’s really scared,” one of the lackeys replies. Johnny doesn’t care to figure out mental descriptions of them anymore. 

“You’re all so original,” Johnny says, shaking his head and beginning to turn away, unwilling to waste any more breath on these idiots. 

He sees Mr. Tough Guy flip him off (again, so original) out of the corner of his eye and then they all settle into trying to out-talk each other. A few minutes later the hostess calls for Patrick, 7, and when Johnny raises his eyes again, he inadvertently catches Patrick’s gaze. He sees the barest hint of a smile, shy and real. After a second it’s gone, as if Patrick had forgotten where he was or something.

Johnny maybe watches him walk away, but it’s only to make sure he doesn’t do something weird like actually look back at Johnny.

He doesn’t and that’s totally cool. The guy is a total asshole anyway.

It’s simply unfortunate that he’s also kind of hot in a really odd way but that’s how life goes.  
___________________________

They aren’t seated near the other guys and Zach and Brandon take the opportunity to express their dislike over Patterson High’s hockey team. 

“They’re cheap shots and fucking amateur,” Brandon says hotly. 

Johnny grins. ‘We’re not amateur, then?” he asks proudly.

“Not as much as them,” Dustin chimes in. Johnny smiles wider. All he wants is some good hard work on the ice and maybe these guys could give him that dynamic.

“Anyway, get used to seeing them, Toews,” Zach says. “This town really isn’t all that big.”

Johnny shrugs, but for some reason Patrick’s eyes flash through his mind.

____________________

School is better after that. The hockey players essentially become his clique, but he’s made a few nice friends in his advanced physics and Trig classes too. The hockey guys are incredibly interested in the cheerleaders and they’re not that bad, all told, Johnny digs blondes and shit, but his eyes definitely wander to the football players more often than not when he’s chilling on the bleachers with the guys and drinking red bulls.

Brad, or Marchy as he likes to be called, elbows him in the side one afternoon, nodding towards the quarterback. “Yeah?”

Johnny tenses immediately. “What, man?”

“You wanna hit that?” His eyes are gleaming and Johnny can’t really read his smirk. He’s speechless for a moment; he’s not about to deny it but he was also kind of hoping to not lose any friends right away. The move was difficult enough. 

Before he can respond, Brad punches him in the arm. “Please, dude, relax. I don’t give a shit. Just noticed, thought maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”

Marchy was pretty cool and a good hockey player. He’s also Canadian which makes sense why he’s Johnny’s favorite right now. 

“I’m bi,” Johnny shrugs. “Like sixty-forty, guys? Or maybe seventy-thirty. I dunno, I made a graph when I was fourteen.”

Marchy laughs loudly and claps him on the back. “You’re a piece of work, man.”

Johnny scowls and is about to shrug away when Marchy puts his arm around Johnny and leans in close. “Seventy-thirty chicks myself, but I’ve got my eye on this sophomore.”

Johnny laughs through his surprise. “Sophomore, dude? Seriously?”

“Johnny, my man, he is a work of art. Plays on the soccer team.”

Johnny looks out to the field; the football players are about done and soccer practice is up next. Johnny shakes his head. “Now I know why you’re always here later than anyone else, you sick fuck. Alright, Marchand, show me your boy.”

Marchy just grins around his red bull and Johnny grins back. It does feel kind of nice to talk about guys. It doesn’t explain why, after Marchy has pointed out Tyler (“it’s pronounced Say-giin”) Seguin and asks if Johnny has his eye on anyone other than the football captain, Johnny thinks of Patrick’s smile.

“Nah, man,” he says. “No one else.”

______________________

Their first game against Patterson High School is probably the grittiest Johnny has ever been involved in. The opposing team is made up of grinders and while Johnny appreciates people getting their hands dirty, this isn’t the fucking NHL and there’s no reason to be up against the fucking boards so much.

Johnny starts yelling shit to his teammates like “move it,” “get it out” and “possession, possession” and pretty soon the guys are following his lead. He breaks out for a two-on-one and Marchy passes him a beauty that Johnny buries right glove side. It feels great and when Johnny heads back to the bench he sees Patrick getting on the ice, watching him, a little wide-eyed.

Johnny doesn’t take his eyes off Patrick on his shift, wanting to see what type of player he is. Fancy, is the word Johnny would use. He’s definitely not interested in going to the tough places, doesn’t shoot as much as he should but he has insane moves and great speed. Competency has always been a thing with Johnny and he’s not gonna deny that his mouth goes a little dry watching Patrick deke his way around their defenseman.

They win 3-1 and in the locker room the coach praises him for his leadership skills and tells him if he keeps that up he might earn the captaincy; the spot is free since the prior captain graduated last year. 

Later that night they decide to go to Sports Plus, a local recreation complex which houses a huge arcade, plus bowling, laser tag and an ice skating rink. They’re taking turns playing air hockey when Patrick and his crew swagger up, minus two from last time. 

“Your new boy’s not that bad, Marchy,” Mr. Tough Guy says. Johnny honestly still has no idea what any of their names are except Patrick. And Phil the Thrill, apparently. 

“I’d say it’s because he’s Canadian, but then again _you_ so, suck.”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Kesler,” Marchy spits out. 

Kesler. That makes three, then. Johnny crosses his arms over his chest, watching the way Patrick is shifting a little. His sweater is grey and comfortable-looking and it pulls across his shoulders in a way Johnny really doesn’t want to think about.

“Did you guys not get enough on the ice or did you want to lose at air hockey too?” Johnny says, chin held defiantly in the air. 

They all laugh sarcastically except Patrick who just smirks at Johnny and steps forward. “I’ll play ya.”

Johnny’s lips curl upward and he nods to Marchy’s side of the table while everyone around them does the obligatory ‘ooooohhhh’ catcall.

“Bring it,” Patrick says and Johnny laughs incredulously.

“Patrick Kane, by the way,” he says across the table as the air comes on. Johnny could have known if he’d looked a roster (since they don’t have names on the backs of their jerseys) but he honestly hadn’t cared that much.

Johnny picks up the disc and slides it into the middle. “Jonathan Toews,” he says, looking at Patrick through his eyelashes before flicking the disc into Patrick’s goal.

He thinks Patrick might have been distracted if the way he’d licked his lips were any indication. Unfortunately it’s on after that, complete with shit-talking and long rallies, so Johnny doesn’t really get time to think about it.

The guys cheer them on loudly and do some shit-talking on the side themselves. Johnny’s fiercely competitive, always has been (he’s made David cry on more than one occasion at Chess) and he’s happy to find out Patrick’s the same way, not smiling at all, just concentrating and giving it everything he can.

Johnny wins but only by one. They were tied for quite a while. When it’s over, Johnny raises his arms in victory and is greeted to hugs and Marchy singing ‘O Canada.’ Patrick’s guys sneer while Patrick just shrugs, looking annoyed but it doesn’t completely reach his eyes.

“Good game, I guess, Jonathan.”

“Johnny,” he corrects, nodding at him from across the table.

“Kaner,” Patrick offers up. 

Their eyes lock and hold for a second before Kesler pulls Patrick (Kaner) away. 

“Come on, douchebag, before you guys split an ice cream soda or something.”

“Yeah, right,” Kaner laughs bitterly, and turns away without a backwards glance.

Disappointment coils in Johnny’s belly but he shakes it off just as quickly. 

Asshole, he reminds himself. He’s doesn’t get why he’s having such a hard time remembering that little detail. 

______________________________________________________________________________

You wouldn’t think Johnny would see this guy all the fucking time seeing as they go to different schools and all, but Zach seriously wasn’t kidding. He sees Kaner at Sports Plus, at the movie theater, and at a club the Friday night that Johnny gets dragged to and then ends up being the one in charge of everyone, making sure they don’t act like fucking idiots. Johnny really meant it when he said he didn’t want to be friends with American douchebags. He likes to go out, despite what anyone might think, but he also likes to be low-key and in control. Unlike what was currently happen across the club with Kaner’s crew. Johnny watches as Kaner falls all over some girl even though there’s no way he’s drunk. They don’t have wristbands and when Johnny went over to get a coke the bartender was basically cursing Kaner’s friends to high heaven so there’s no way he’d be slipping them anything. 

Johnny shakes his head in disgust as the girl pushes Kaner away and his friends holler after her. Kaner doesn’t participate. If anything, he looks embarrassed and pretty fucking humiliated. That should honestly make Johnny feel great; he deserves it, after all. Johnny can’t help the unwilling pull in his chest, though, as Kaner bites down on his lower lip and runs a hand through his hair before looking around and catching Johnny’s eye.

His eyes widen a little and then he kind of shrugs self-consciously and looks up at Johnny, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. Johnny’s never understood when people said their breath caught in their chest. It seemed ridiculous and something reserved for Hollywood romantic comedies. That was before he was on the receiving end of a Patrick Kane smile. 

Kaner raises his hand in a half wave and his smile and movements turn shy, almost hesitant. Probably because Johnny’s expression hasn’t changed he entire time. He’s still a little shell-shocked, to be honest. 

He attempts a smile, just a quirk of lips that feels completely awkward. Kaner’s smile grows even wider if possible and then Kesler jumps on his back and pulls him away. Johnny would think he’d imagined the entire thing if Kaner wasn’t looking back at him over his shoulder with something like regret in his eyes.

“Heeeeey, Toes, what you lookin’ at?” Marchy asks, bounding up to him.

Johnny shakes his head. “Nothing, man.”

_____________________

The next morning Johnny decides to hit the rink for an early practice. He’s pretty sure no one will be there at this time and he really just wants to skate by himself. He misses the outdoor rink his dad made when he was a kid. It was probably the hardest thing to say goodbye to. Johnny’s just about done lacing up his skates when he hears the outer door to the rink shut. A second later Patrick Kane is headed his way. He freezes when he sees Johnny, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Patrick says. “Uh, I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

Johnny snorts, a little pissed at not having the rink to himself like he’d hoped. “Same.”

Patrick scowls a little, looking frustrated but also more uncertain than Johnny’s ever seen him. “I can just…” he waves to the door and Johnny would bet million dollars if his friends were here he would never have offered to leave.

Johnny swallows and says “Nah, it’s cool. Plenty of ice, right?”

Patrick rolls his eyes as if in response to how cheesy that sounded but he just says “Yeah,” and sits down on the bench next to Johnny, pulling out his knee pads and skates. 

Johnny gets on the ice first, does a few drills and when Kaner joins him they pass the puck a little. It feels awkward, like they should be talking or something. In general, Kaner just seems super jumpy and Johnny wonders if it has anything to do with last night.

They stand diagonal on the ice and pass the puck back and forth, sometimes batting at it like a baseball before finally making some idle conversation. Johnny starts with a generic opener: “You originally from here?”

“Yep, born and raised,” Kaner says, proudly.  
“  
What a shame,” Johnny says, smirking to himself.

“Fuck you, _Canada_. Where are you from anyway? Montreal?”

Johnny scrunches his nose up. “You do know there are other places in Canada, right?”

Kaner shoots him an extra hard pass that barely connects.

“Yeah well, Kesler said he heard you talking French to yourself on the ice, you weirdo.”

Johnny laughs. “I’m amazed Kesler identified the language. And there are other provinces that speak French, Kaner,” he adds, patiently. “Anyway, my mom’s French Canadian. I’m from Manitoba, though.”

“I have no idea where that his, man,” Kaner says, before shooting the puck into the net instead.

“Ass,” Johnny says and races him to get it. 

By the end of their impromptu practice, Johnny learns Kaner has three sisters, his parents have some money (which explains the nice car Johnny’s seen him getting into and the shouts of ‘Hey Richie Rich, buy us some more snacks from his friends while at Sports Plus.) Kaner doesn’t brag when he says it; in fact, he makes it sound like it’s a burden since the rest of his friends’ parents are pretty much working class.

Johnny in turn tells him about his brother and Canada and moving. Kaner loves American Idol; Johnny hates it. Kaner loves Pop music; Johnny hates it. They both like some rap though, to which Kaner laughs endlessly, gasping out “Really? You?” while Johnny hits him in the shoulder.

They both love _The Lord of the Rings_ , though, and _Lost_. Pretty soon they’re unlacing their skates. 

“So, you like your school?”

Kaner snorts. “Please, man.”

“Why not?’”Johnny looks at him while taking off one skate. 

“Because it’s _school?_ ”

Johnny shrugs.

“Oh god,” Kaner says dramatically. “You’re seriously one of those people who like school aren’t you? You like, enjoy studying and shit?”

Johnny just shrugs impassively again, and takes off his other skate. “I like learning.”

Kaner laughs. “I bet you get all straight A’s huh?”

Johnny looks at him and grins. “Maybe.”

Kaner grins right back. “You’re a senior, right? I’m still a junior. I should pay you to do my chemistry homework.“

“You couldn’t afford me,” Johnny says, their bodies still turned and facing each other, hunched over. Their eyes meet and hold and shit, Johnny really didn’t mean for that to come out so flirty. He wasn’t even trying. 

Kaner’s mouth twitches into a grin but his eyes are a little dark as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I dunno man, Richie Rich here,” he says, self-deprecating and that breaks the moment, the air that had suddenly felt too heavy leveling out in an instant. 

Johnny frowns and gets up, shoving his gear into his bag. “You shouldn’t let them talk to you like that.”

Kaner gets up too and Johnny sneaks a glance at him, thinking there’s some disappointment in his eyes. It’s gone in an instant though, replaced by anger. 

“Fuck you, man. You don’t even know them.”

It’s sorta true but Johnny feels like he knows enough. Ever since Kaner mentioned the money thing, little things have started to fall into place. Like how he always sees Kaner getting the food and drinks while they’re out, how it’s Kaner who is always driving them everywhere. He always has a smile plastered on his face whenever Johnny sees him but none of them are as real as the one he laid on Johnny last night. Kaner might think in his mind that he’s the head of his crew or something, but from the outside looking in Johnny can see just how much they use him. 

He wants to say all of this but he was raised with better manners than that. Plus if he did he’s pretty sure Kaner would never talk to him again and while the guy is pretty much a jerk he’s not the kind of jerk Johnny thought he was. He’s – actually kind of nice, beneath it all. He could always tell Kaner about his asshole friends another time, when maybe _they’re_ actually friends.

“You’re right. Shouldn’t have said that.”

Kaner blinks at him, surprise evident. “Damn straight,” Kaner says, but he sounds less heated. 

They pack up in silence and walk to the door, the ease of their prior conversation suddenly evaporated. Johnny sighs to himself as they head to the parking lot and then Kaner stops and turns to him abruptly. “Wanna do this again next week?”

Johnny’s stomach flips violently but he forces himself to nod, and then smirks, “Although I’m sure I’ll see you a million times before then, including at Wednesday’s game.”

Kaner smiles brilliantly and walks backwards to his car, pointing at his cheek. “You can’t get enough of this face, man!”

Johnny flips him off good-naturedly and heads in the opposite direction, wishing that statement wasn’t so damn accurate. 

__________________

When they play against Patterson on Wednesday Johnny’s matched up against Kaner’s line. He thinks about checking Kaner into the boards but since he’s never _there_ , there’s actually no good reason to. It’s a damn shame, Johnny thinks. Kaner’s doing some ridiculously complex stick-handling that is completely unnecessary right now and Johnny just skates up behind him and strips the puck from him easily, starting back down the ice for a breakaway. 

“Too fancy!” Johnny calls out behind him as Kaner tries to catch up with him. 

“Your face is too fancy!” but he’s sounds amused. Johnny’s still laughing when he buries the puck in the net. 

On their next shift, he’s fore-checking hard against Kaner, and is getting far too distracted for his own good. “You know that goes in your mouth, right?”

Kaner manages to chew even more obscenely on his mouth-guard. “I’m unorthodox, what can I say?”

“You’re something, alright.”

“Flattery will get you hip-checked,” and then Kaner does it, and skates off with the puck. 

Johnny’s never laughed during a game before. Now he’s done it twice in a few a minutes. It feels fucking weird, but not necessarily bad. It feels even better when he steals the puck from Kaner again a few seconds later. 

“Fraternizing with the enemy?” Marchy taunts when they skate back to the bench. Johnny would bet anything his eyebrows were raised beneath his helmet.

“Shut up, man.”

“Enemy team _and_ American.” Marchy claps him on the back. “I’m disappointed, Toes. Think of our country.” 

Johnny laughs again. He thinks this might be a record or something. His mom would certainly be dying of shock if she saw him, that’s for sure. She’d be filming every second, too. For posterity or something.

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you loooove me.”

Johnny shoves him with his entire body and tries to stop smiling. 

___________________

They win again. By one goal this time. Johnny’s not surprised Kaner’s at Sports Plus again afterwards. He just hadn’t realized until he’s in line for food and hears, “Kaner, grab us food!” Then Patrick’s standing in the line adjacent from him, which is only a few inches away really, and he’s staring resolutely ahead.

“Hey,” he says, anyway, voice tight. 

“Hey,” Johnny responds, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

The air feels too tense and uncomfortable around them.

“Don’t even say it. They’ll probably give me money,” Kaner says, sighing and opening his wallet. 

Johnny shakes his head to himself for a second. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Kaner snorts. “You were totally thinking it.”

Johnny shrugs one shoulder, staring ahead. “Maybe, but you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I’m sorry I did,” Kaner mutters, pulling out some cash. “Anyway, sweet goal tonight.”

He sounds bored as he says it but Johnny can hear some genuine praise beneath. It’s more than Johnny would be willing to give to someone who just beat him and he’s slightly impressed. 

“Thanks, man.”

They stand in silence for a few seconds before they’re up to order at their respective cashiers. He sneaks glances at Kaner and notices he’s doing the same. He’s really not sure what that means. 

Kaner turns to him once he’s done, arms full of soda, hot dogs, and Nathan’s fries. “So uh, see you Saturday?”

Johnny looks at him, taking in his slightly miserable expression but noting the hope in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Saturday.”

Kaner turns away quickly but Johnny thinks he catches the tail end of a smile. 

He didn’t understand this guy anymore. On his way to his table, Johnny has to pass by Kaner’s. He sees Kesler stuffing his face with his hot dog and wants to punch him. Sometimes Johnny opens his mouth when he shouldn’t. He’s always consciously aware of it and so it makes the times he actually does that much worse, since he easily had a choice in the matter. He avoids his conscience this time and as he passes by Kaner’s table, calls out, “Hey Kesler, are your hands okay?”

Kesler glowers at him. “Uh, yeah?” he says, sarcastically. 

Johnny stops and takes a sip of his soda. “Oh, well, that’s good. I couldn’t tell from the way you couldn’t hold onto the puck tonight. And then when you couldn’t get your own food, you know, thought maybe there was some serious injury. You’ve put me at ease, man.”

Kesler stares a moment before sputtering out a bland “Fuck you.” Johnny bites the inside of his lip and grins. These American guys really are as original as they come. As he walks off, he catches a glimpse of Kaner and takes in how his mouth is hanging open a little. 

He feels almost as good as he did scoring tonight.

_______________________________

Kaner’s car is already at the rink when Johnny gets there, and the thrill that shoots up his spine is completely unbidden and completely unwelcome.

Johnny sighs to himself and hitches his gear over his shoulder. He’s honestly never let anyone affect him this way before and doesn’t understand why he is now. He made a list the night after The Kesler Event (as he’s taken to calling it in his mind) as to why he’s even giving a second thought to Patrick Kane. He came up with:

1\. Not total shit at hockey  
2\. Sick moves (see above)  
3\. Stupid smile  
4\. Stupid hair  
5\. Stupid eyes  
6\. Stupid American accent

In retrospect, it would seem like he’s all hung up on someone who he finds to be so utterly dumb, at least until Johnny manned up and admitted that okay, he was actually using stupid as a synonym for nice. He’s 99% sure that if it weren’t for the hockey factor he’d be having no issues right now but Johnny loves hockey more than anything and Kaner being so good at it complicates matters. 

Patrick’s already on the ice when Johnny walks in and he takes a moment just to watch him. He’s stick-handling and fucking _twirling_. Johnny shakes his head, a smile unwillingly forming on his face. Kaner looks a little like a kid out there, carefree with abandon. Johnny realizes in that moment exactly why he hasn’t completely written Kaner off yet; he’s the opposite of Johnny when it comes to hockey. He smiles on the ice and chews on his mouth-guard and raises his hands in the air when he scores, practically leaping. Yet through all that, he does still want to win, still gives it everything he has. The combination of the two is… hot.

Kaner looks up and spots him, waving a little. Johnny waves back and goes to suit up.

“Kesler thinks you’re a psycho,” Kaner says by way of greeting when Johnny skates up to him.

“That was obviously my plan,” Johnny deadpans.

Kaner grins and pushes him with his shoulder before sobering. “Don’t do it again, though.”

Johnny holds his hands up. “Do what, buddy?” he asks, innocently.

“Ugh. Let’s fucking play,” Kaner says, bemused.

_________

Johnny wins their face-offs twenty to two.

“Don’t ever play center,” he tells Kaner.

“Fuck you, man, we don’t even have someone dropping the puck for us.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

_________

“So you should totally watch that show House. The main character’s a sarcastic asshole just like you.”

“I’ll be sure to set my TIVO,” Johnny says, dry as fuck on purpose before taking off down the ice. 

_________

“We need more pucks.”

“Why?”

“So we can just shoot them into the net over and over, practicing our shot, dummy.”

Patrick glares at him and then shrugs. “Okay. I’ll buy them.”

Johnny chews on his lip. “Nah, I got it.”

Patrick beams at him and Johnny’s stomach most definitely does not flip. 

By the end of their session the only thing Johnny realizes (aside from the fact that trading insults and trash talk with Kaner is one of his new favorite things in life) is that if things were different, if Patrick weren’t the enemy, if he wasn’t a giant douche around his friends (which is the majority of his personality) then Johnny would want to date him. He’d want to take him to a drive-in movie and not make him pay for a single thing, even. He’s kind of old fashioned that way. His dad’s the same way; he still takes his mom out on dates. 

They walk out to the parking lot, Johnny still reeling from his own thoughts.

They parked next to each other this time and after throwing their bags in the back seat Kaner peers at him over the hood of his car.

“Well. See ya.” He smiles a little, that slow, coy smile, almost like the one he gave the first time Johnny saw him at Applebees when he was trying to impress the hostess.

“See you, Patrick.”

Patrick’s smile grows wider and he ducks his head, before getting into the car.

Johnny really wishes he’d stop doing that. Johnny’s already got Patrick labeled in a box as the type of person he is. He’s the type that would embarrass Johnny any place they went and probably get them kicked out of clubs. He’d be loud and obnoxious and full of himself. Johnny’s seen the makings of it in his friends back home, and he just has no use for it. 

Kaner’s unconscious attempts at trying to make Johnny reconsider these facts just aren’t fair.  
_____________________

Brandon had informed Johnny that the huge mall in town is basically all teenagers from four pm on Friday until nine pm on Saturday. This is why Johnny purposely avoids going until Sunday at elevan am when he figures he won’t have to deal with generic skaters and guys who only _think_ they know what hip hop is. He doesn’t even want to go to the mall but he does want to buy those pucks and he could probably use some new laces. Plus, he wants to get the new Diamond Selects to add to his collection.

David had gone to the mall last night. With _Tyler_. It was the first time Johnny had consciously realized they were in the same grade.

Johnny had called Marchy right away, even though he hated talking the phone. “Man, I can not believe you want to bang someone my brother’s age.”

Marchy just laughed and said, “Hello to you too. And I never thought you’d say bang.”

Johnny had rolled his eyes. “I’m a teenage guy, just like you.”

“Yeah, but you act like you’re twenty-five, Toes.”

“Whatever,you’re changing the subject. Your crush or what the fuck ever went to the mall with my brother tonight.”

“Seriously? Oh man, have your bro put in a good word for me!”

Johnny had scowled at the phone. “No! No, I’m officially saying I am not down with this.”

“You suck ass. And I’m totally having a house party an inviting your brother and his “friends,” just so you know.”

“You’re a sad soul, Marchy.”

“Maybe I’ll even invite the enemy,” Marchy had continued, pretending not to hear.

Johnny was pretty sure his face might have flushed a little so it was a good thing he’d been on the phone.

“I’d rather not see Kesler’s ugly mug, thanks,” Johnny had deflected. 

Marchy, being Marchy, hadn’t dropped it.

“Nah, the one that sounds like Matrick Mane.”

“He’s a dick,” Johnny had said, immediately.

“A dick you’d like to suck.”

“I’m _going_ , Marchy.”

He hung up to obscene slurping sounds and had spent the night seriously rethinking if Marchy was still his favorite. The Canadian solidarity thing could only run so deep.  
_________________________

Johnny hates malls. He truly does. But he loves shopping for anything sports related. And he really does love Starbucks, even though that in turn makes him actually hate himself a little bit. He’s hanging out in the indented alcove between Starbucks and the Apple store, sipping his caramel macchiato (even the name makes him die a little inside) and people watching. 

The mall isn’t very crowded right now but there’s an elderly couple sitting on a bench, and a mom chasing her kid out of the Disney store diagonally across for him. And then Patrick Fucking Kane walks out. Of the _Disney store_ with three girls. The shortest one (and youngest looking; she can’t be more than eleven or so, Johnny thinks) is talking in that loud way pre-teen girls tend to.

It’s quiet in the mall given the sparseness of the crowd and Johnny can make out every word over the low horrible elevator music. 

“I’m just saying, Pat, we could totally replicate the _That’s So Raven_ dance.”

“But I’d have to actually _want_ to, Jackie,” Kaner responds, his voice one-part annoyed and two-parts warm. It does something stupid to Johnny’s insides. 

Jackie, apparently, swats at Kaner, who proceeds to steal the Nemo plushie out of her hand and toss up in the air so she has to jump up for it while the other girls shake their heads, looking at them.

“We’ll do a dance to Toxic, okay? You like Britney.”

The tall blonde girl on the other side of Kaner snorts. “ _You_ like Britney.”

“Hey now, did I complain about the Backstreet Boys?”

“That’s because Nick is a dreamboat and you know it,” says the brunette with long straight hair. 

Kaner’s mid-eye roll and ruffling Jackie’s hair, giving her back the stuffed animal when he spots Johnny.

“Holy shit,” Kaner says, practically gasping. Johnny shrugs a little, sheepishly, and pushes off the wall, walking toward him. He doesn’t analyze why his heart is racing. He notices the girls looking at him suspiciously. 

Kaner’s eyes narrow when they all come to a stop in the middle of the near the benches. “You stalking me or something?”

Johnny holds his drink up in an obvious manner. “Exactly.”

Kaner seems to contemplate if Johnny really is a freaky creeper before shrugging and looking at the girls with him. 

“This is Johnny; he’s a weird Canadian from Dewey High. Johnny, these are my sisters, Erica, Jessica, and Jackie.”

He nods to each of them as he introduces them. Johnny shakes their hands in return, ignoring Kaner’s exaggerated eye-roll and mouthing of “freak.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says and they all echo it back to him. 

Then they’re all just standing there and Johnny feels self-conscious and awkward, even moreso than usual when faced with people he doesn’t know in a public setting. He scratches at his arm with his other hand, which raises the bag he’s carrying higher. 

“Oh. You bought the pucks?” Kaner asks, nodding to the sporting goods bag. He sounds a little surprised, like he hadn’t expected Johnny to actually do it. 

Johnny shrugs and meets his gaze. “Said I would.”

Kaner nods and looks away, and really, this is just too odd, especially since his sister’s haven’t stopped looking him up and down.

“I should--,” Johnny starts, just as Jackie says, “You should join us for lunch!”

Kaner’s head whips around at her, eyes wide and Johnny frowns slightly.

“What?” she asks, holding her palms up. “We were just about to go to the food court, you said.”

“Johnny doesn’t want to – “ he breaks off and looks at Johnny a little sheepishly, “Sorry, man, she’s overly-friendly.” 

Jackie swats at him with Nemo and Johnny laughs, some of the tension easing from the air. He’s not sure what makes him say it; it could be the almost bashful expression on Kaner’s face right now but for some reason he blurts out, “Actually I am kind of hungry.”

He thinks he sees the slightest curve to Kaner’s lips before Jackie pulls him along. “Good because I’m starving!”

And that’s how Johnny ends up in the food court, watching Kaner chaperone Jackie as she goes from place to place to decide on what she finally wants. Johnny chooses a salad from the The Great Potato Company and when he sits down, Kaner’s already back from Jackie’s final decision: Wendys. Kaner himself has two slices of pizza in front of him, while Erica and Jessica chose Subway. 

Johnny shakes his head. “Don’t you have a hockey diet?” He’s mostly joking, but he does see Kaner eating pizza a lot.

Kaner’s eyes flare and he says, meanly, “We can’t all be perfect like you, salad man.” 

Johnny stabs at his lettuce angrily, because seriously? What the actual fuck. Fuck this asshole. He almost misses Erica’s subtle nudge at Kaner.

“Thanks for buying the pucks,” Kaner mumbles, almost like a peace offering and Johnny looks up, surprised.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Then for some reason, he can’t look away from Kaner’s eyes and it feels like – like a moment, the air narrowed around them, zeroing in on just the two of them.

His eyes are immediately drawn to Kaner licking his lips nervously and then there’s the sound of a clearing throat and Johnny remembers his _sisters_ are here and even though that moment was probably only five seconds long, tops, it was still five seconds longer than what should have happened. 

“So, Pat, why don’t we ask Johnny what song we should dance to next?” Jessica says after breaking them out of whatever the hell that was. Kaner shoots her a look, his cheeks a little red, and Johnny really, really wants to know what the hell just happened there.

“Shut up, Jess.”

Jessica has a teasing glint in her eye and Johnny knows that look well, has seen it on David one too many times.

“Oh, Pat, yes! We need an outsiders opinion!” Jackie exclaims around her French fry. “Johnny,” she leans over the table, seriously, “I want our next dance contest to be to _That’s So Raven_. You know, the opening song? The moves are already there! Pat says no. He totally wants to do Toxic by Britney, barf.”

Johnny finds his lips curling into a grin, amusement rumbling through his chest as he listens to her enthusiasms. “Dance contests?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in Kaner’s direction.

“Someone make it stop,” Kaner laments. 

“We put on dance-offs,” Jessica chimes in helpfully. “Our last one was to ‘Everybody’ by Backstreet. Pat won; we need to kick his butt this time.”

Johnny bites the inside of his lips so hard to keep from laughing but he’s sure his eyes are dancing. Kaner groans and puts his head down on the table, then shoots up just as fast, pointing a finger at Johnny. “Don’t say a word. And if your teammates start humming that song during the next game, I will end you.”

Johnny does laugh then. “Yeah, you and all four feet of you.”

Everyone at the table laughs except for Kaner, who takes one of Jackie’s fries and throws it at Johnny. 

“I hate all of you,” he exclaims. 

Johnny’s trying not to think about how sickeningly sweet this whole dance contest thing is, so he puts on his most serious face. “Well, I think if Kan--” he stops, wondering if his sisters know the nickname, “If uh, Pat, won last time then he should have no say in the music for this rematch. It’s only fair.”

Jackie squeals and raises her arms in triumph, Erica and Jessica are grinning, and Kaner looks like he wants to toss Jackie’s frosty on Johnny’s head. 

“This is why I should never hang out with someone from a rival team,” Kaner says, flatly. 

“Can we do That’s So Raven, then?!”

Jessica and Erica both wince. “Are you sure, Jacq? There’s _nothing_ else?”

Jackie sullenly takes a spoonful of her frosty and just like that, Johnny’s struck with an evil idea.

“How about Milkshake?”

All three girls erupt with glee; Kaner throws five fries at Johnny.

They spend the rest of the time explaining all the different games and contests Kaner and them get up to and by the time they’re walking to their cars, Johnny realizes a) he’s had a ridiculously good time and b) he’s stupidly charmed by Kaner’s relationship with his sisters. 

“I’m not forgetting this, Toews,” Kaner says as the girls climb into his car. He tries to sound menacing but Johnny just laughs and claps him on the back, pulling his hand away quickly before he does something stupid like resting it there.

“Please take video for me.”

Kaner snorts. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask to be a judge.”

Kaner looks up at him and Johnny looks down and suddenly Kaner’s scowl softens out and Johnny watches as he swallows and his lips part ever so slightly. 

Then a horn sounds and they both jump, turning to see Jackie smiling innocently, all teeth. 

“They can be so annoying,” Kaner mutters, running his fingers through his hair, but Johnny can hear the warmth in his voice even then and it makes his chest tighten.

“I uh, I should go,” Johnny says, motioning vaguely to his car when Kaner turns back to look at him.

“Yeah, uh. See you around,” Kaner says, his hand combing through his hair again. Johnny wonders if it’s a nervous tick or something and if so, why he finds it to be endearing. 

“Break a leg,” Johnny says, and then wants to slap himself at how cheesy that was. Kaner laughs though and Johnny can’t help but echo him.

He smiles the whole way to his car and doesn’t even try to fight it. 

_________________

The next week is ridiculously busy; they have three games in a row, two away, and Johnny’s so exhausted between school and hockey games that he barely even thinks about Kaner for a few days. 

Sometimes, especially on nights where he wants to unwind, Johnny lies on his bed and blasts his Explosions in the Sky CD in the headphones his mom bought him last Christmas when she realized he already had all the hockey stuff he needed at the moment. 

Johnny bought the CD at Music Trader in Winnipeg last summer, after listening to a sample of it and being immediately taken by the melodic instrumentals. 

He likes to listen to Your Hand in Mine the night before games; it kind of takes him away. After Wednesday night’s away loss, though, he finds he needs the comfort of it even more. When he puts it in and closes his eyes, he’s thinking of way too many things. First the game, and how he should have been better, and how his passes weren’t connecting, and how their defense is weak. 

Then, after he’s dissected every single bit of how both he and the team played, he thinks about how he wants to listen to this song while lying out on the grass and watching the stars. Except he’s not alone; there’s someone with him, their bodies are almost touching and their hands brushing. Johnny’s eyes snap open when the person’s identity begins to take shape. He scrubs his palms over his face.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck.”

He yanks the headphones off his ears and presses his hand onto his dick, which has started to twitch a little. He hasn’t jerked off in a while. He thought about it Sunday night, remembering those two charged, confusing moments with Kaner. He stopped himself though, because once he crossed that line, it was difficult to not sexualize the person again. Johnny’s jerk-off fantasies never contained people he actually knew, unless he’d already fooled around with them. Now though, it’s difficult not to think about Kaner as he presses the heel of his palm hard against his cock, canting his hips slightly and biting his lip as his eyes drift shut. He imagines covering Kaner’s body with his own, pressing their lips together over and over until Kaner gasps against his mouth, letting Johnny slip his tongue inside. Johnny moans softly and trails his other hand down his chest, raking up his T-shirt and dragging his nails across his belly as his other hand continues to tease his cock through his jeans. 

He can practically feel Kaner’s fingers in his hair, twisting as he arches beneath Johnny to kiss him harder, deeper. Johnny fumbles with his zipper and buttons. He knows he should stop, or at least just stop thinking about Kaner but he can’t. He’s too far gone already, his cock throbbing in his hand. He licks his palm and sighs at the contact, bending his knees and shimmying his jeans down a bit more. Beneath his eyelids, Johnny’s kissing Kaner sloppily, their mouths biting at one another as they frantically rub off on each other. Johnny wants to know what kind of sounds he makes, if he’s serious about kissing the way Johnny is or if he likes to be playful, nipping at lips and noses and ears and laughing into open mouths. 

Johnny’s hand speeds up and he bites down on his own lip to stop the desperate sounds of want from filling the room. It’s been too long; when hockey starts, he really spends all his energy focused on it, neglecting baser instincts aside from eating. It’s one of the main reasons this Kaner thing has him so perplexed; Johnny really shouldn’t be thinking about anything other than hockey and school right now, to be honest. 

Those thoughts do nothing to quell his current want, however, and he finds his hips arching off the bed as he thumbs the wet head of his cock, feeling the inevitable pull of his balls and slow build at the base of his spine. In Johnny’s fantasy, he’s got Kaner on top of him now, leg wedged between his thighs while he bites at Kaner’s neck and listens to his uneven pants against his ear. He shakes with the force of his orgasm just as the Kaner in his fantasy comes, gasping against Johnny and moaning his name. 

“Oh, fuck, Patrick,” he groans as he jerks himself even harder, spilling all over his hand and stomach. “Oh, god.”

Johnny’s legs are shaking as they drop down onto the bed and there’s sweat in his eyes and his lips feel raw. 

“Shit,” he breaths out. It was the hottest orgasm he’s had in forever. He’s just not sure if he’ll ever be able to look at Kaner again without thinking about it.

“Shit,” he repeats, heavily. He’s utterly screwed. 

__________________

He thinks he does a pretty good job not thinking about his hotter than fuck jerk-off session and the inspiration behind it until he sees Marchy in Gym the next day, when he proceeds to announce his parents are going away last minute for the weekend, which means his house party idea can happen sooner rather than later. 

“You’re not seriously really going through with this,” Johnny says, stripping off his striped polo and changing into his faded Our Lady Peace t-shirt. 

“Uh, _yeah_. Dustin’s been helping me spread the word all day. Saw your bro in the hall before and told him he could come seeing as you’re my bud and all and maybe he should bring some friends.”

Johnny slams his locker shut. “You didn’t.”

Marchy grins and claps him on the shoulder. “Johnny, my man, when will you realize when I say something, I intend to follow through.”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re using my brother to score sophomore ass. No, actually, I can believe that. I _can’t_ believe you’re too chicken shit to talk to the guy yourself.”

Marchy shrugs, some of the cockiness leaving his expression. “Everyone has a weak spot, man.”

Johnny’s mind unwittingly flashes to Kaner and he nearly groans. At least, he thinks, that’s one thing he won’t have to worry about as they don’t play Kaner’s team this week and Marchy probably won’t have any opportunity to see him and mention the party. That would just be awkward. 

“I guess I have to go to this thing now, since my mom will never let him go alone,” Johnny bemoans.

Marchy’s grin returns full force. “What a good brother you are.” Then he winks and Johnny decides to stop trying to figure him out.

__________________

The party is barely different than the ones Johnny used to go to back home. Generic at best, like something out of a movie which he supposes should be a good thing because at least art is imitating life accurately? The Kids Aren’t Alright is blasting through the speakers as Johnny wanders from room to room, just surveying. David took off with Tyler the second he got here, after Marchy said hello to them and proceeded to hand them both a beer. 

“One,” Johnny warned before David bounded away, rolling his eyes 

There’s a keg set up in the corner and Johnny shakes his head at a guy trying a kegstand and failing, miserably. 

There’s beer pong going on in the kitchen, and Johnny watches for a few moments, as he does have a fondness for regular ping pong anyway.

“Toes, lighten up and have a beer!” Marchy yells over the music, hanging over him and shoving a red cup in his face.

“Gotta drive David home, man. My mom would kill us if we both show up drunk.”

“Lame. You are _lame_ ,” Marchy repeats loudly. “How bout you go say hi to your boy then? Think I saw him walk in a few minutes ago.”

Johnny tenses immediately, turning to look at Marchy. “You fucking didn’t.” 

“He _does_ have a Myspace, you know.”

“I hate your entire life,” Johnny said and walked away. He suddenly wished he’d worn something different. Maybe just a white t-shirt and his grey cardigan or something, instead of fucking _chinos_ and a shirt that screamed he should be golfing. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and stepped back into the living room, ignoring Marchy who is pushing past him and making a beeline for Tyler.

Kaner’s standing by the keg with Kesler, naturally, and his other usual crew: Phil, Dave and Mike; Johnny actually managed to learn the rest of their names. He still couldn’t tell their personalities apart if you paid him, though.

Johnny wishes he had a damn beer so at least he’d have something to do with his hands rather than awkwardly standing near the entertainment stand. He moves a little closer just as Kaner is talking to a girl. He’s close enough now to hear his obnoxious laugh just as he says, “Not even close,” before turning away from the girl. 

“Fuck you, like you’re some beauty queen,” she spits back at him and flounces away. 

“Only the best for Patrick Fucking Kane, sweetheart!” Kesler calls after her and Johnny feels his stomach roll in a mixture of anger and deep-seeded disappointment. 

Kaner’s laughing until he looks to his right and sees Johnny. Then he flushes and looks away.

Kesler notices and when he sees Johnny he throws his hands up. “Wonderful, the moral police is here. Shouldn’t you be a fucking Mountie in Beautiful O Canada or something?”

Everyone laughs but Kaner’s just fumbling with the keg, a little nervously.

Johnny just stares at Kesler until he scratches the back of his head, uncomfortably. “What are you trying to do, kill me with your laser stare?”

They laugh again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world and Johnny wonders why he even bothers anymore.

“You’re all pathetic,” he says, his eyes cutting to Kaner before he leaves. He can’t read his face and he’s honestly doesn’t care.

Johnny wanders off to the bathroom only to find it being used as a hotbox. He considers indulging but instead he finds Marchy and steals the rest of his beer out of his hands.

“Atta boy,” he says, grinning broadly. He’s leaning against the hallway wall and Johnny’s not completely surprised that he has Tyler right beside him, who is looking at Marchy like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.

“Just half,” Johnny mutters, and then leaves them alone. Back in the kitchen, beer pong has been abandoned for strip poker and Johnny’s not surprised to find Kaner there without a shirt and a girl on his lap. She isn’t all that pretty and she doesn’t seem very interested in touching Kaner but Johnny’s stomach still twists.

He isn’t sure why he even bothered; Kaner’s shown no real signs of being interested in guys and whatever might be kinda sorta happening when they’re alone doesn’t mean shit when Kaner acts like he doesn’t even exist when faced with his friends. 

Johnny walks through the kitchen and out the backdoor, feeling Kaner’s gaze on his back.

He sits on the porch and hangs his legs over the side. There’s a couple making out on a patio chair next to him and he clothes his eyes against the sounds of Kaner yelling for someone to “take it off.”

Tipsy is blasting from inside while Johnny downs the rest of his beer and just looks out into the backyard at the treeline of the other houses on the block. It looks nothing like Winnipeg and longing hits him sharp in his chest. 

“Kaner, what the fuck, you can’t quit now,” he hears someone, probably Kesler, say over the music before the deck creeks beneath him. 

Then there’s a body sliding down next to him, kicking at the porch as his legs swing over the side. 

“Hey,” Kaner says quietly. Johnny looks out the corner of his eye just to see if he has a shirt on; he does. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Johnny asks tightly, gripping his cup tightly so it crushes a little in his hand.

“Needed some air,” Kaner says, the lie so obvious Johnny nearly laughs. 

“Right,” Johnny snorts. “Well, you better get back before your popularity plummets just for being in my presence.”

Johnny knows he’s being petulant but he honestly doesn’t give a shit anymore.

Kaner knocks his foot against Johnny’s, hard. “I don’t care about that,” he says, still quiet, but firmer this time, even though his words are a slurred a little.

Johnny looks at him, studies his profile as Kaner stares resolutely straight ahead. 

“You could have fooled me.”

Kaner shakes his head in frustration and drums his fingers against his thigh. “I didn’t want them to come but Kesler is a fucking Myspace stalker and saw my response to Marchy that I’d be here and then insisted we like, crash it.”

Johnny feels his throat tighten, and finally takes in Kaner’s outfit. He looks – nice. He’s wearing jeans that aren’t faded or ripped and a button down plaid shirt that looks like it could have come from Johnny’s own wardrobe from last year. Even his hair is slicked back, although Johnny prefers it loose and curly. He’s not sure if this means anything. At all. But a stupid part of him in an area suspiciously close to his heart wants it to.

“Why do you _do_ this shit?” Johnny blurts out, a little too loud, so that the couple behind them glares before returning to their make-out session. Kaner’s eyes go a little wide and he glances away from the couple and back to Johnny, meeting his eyes for the first time.

Kaner looks lost, hollow. His eyes red and glassy, probably from the alcohol, or maybe some pot, and he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“S’all I’ve got to offer. Life of the party, drunk loser, blah, blah.”

Johnny’s eyes narrow and his lips draw together in a tight line. “That’s a fucking bullshit cop-out.”

Kaner glares at him. “Yeah, well, it’s true.”

Johnny takes a deep breath and crushes his cup completely in his hand. “I’m not so sure,” he says low, almost a whisper. 

He watches as Kaner’s lips part, surprise evident on his face before he shakes it off, clearing his throat. 

“I told Kesler I made it with two different chicks when my family and I went to Vegas last summer,” he blurts out and it seems like a non sequitur if Johnny’s ever heard one but he waits, assuming there’s more. 

“I don’t know why I did; all anyone asked me when I got back was how laid I got, when uh, I just kinda wanted to see the medieval times show at Excalibur and the Belliago fountain and go on that sick roller coaster on top of the Stratosphere. So, you know, I lied and now he thinks I’m some stud so I go along with it…”

“Oh,” Johnny says dumbly, feeling rather shell-shocked. He never thought Kaner would open up this way. Maybe he is really drunk but he sounded really with it when he was talking so Johnny can’t be sure.

The thing is, Johnny’s not stupid. He knows people act like this all the time, conform to what people expect of them – it’s just that it’s not something he does personally and he doesn’t believe in it. Everyone’s different, though. It’s the one thing his mom has always stressed to him. She’s also told him repeatedly he’s more mature for his age than most. 

Before he can expand further, Kaner laughs meanly. “Better that than them thinking I’m some pathetic virgin.”

He sniffs a little, and Johnny watches his face; he looks miserable, vulnerable and fuck it if his first instinct isn’t to pull him close and hug the shit out of him. Johnny sighs and pushes it back, even though his fingers itch.

“I’m a virgin too,” he says instead, giving Kaner a little piece of himself.

Kaner’s head shoots up, his red eyes wide like saucers. 

“Well, I mean, I’ve fooled around but I haven’t gone all the way,” Johnny corrects and technically that still counts. He doesn’t tell Kaner he has more experience with guys than girls. Doesn’t tell him that when he thinks about ‘going all the way’ it’s been pretty exclusively with the same sex as of late.

Kaner nods, looking a little more relaxed. “Kinda the same for me. But not much.” He mumbles the last part, as if wishing Johnny wouldn’t hear it. 

Johnny shifts ever so slightly, not so Kaner would even really feel it as a deliberate action, and presses their legs together. Except Kaner immediately leans into the touch and Johnny has to swallow hard, his body a ball of nervous energy and anticipation. 

“It’s uh, it’s cool you were here tonight,” Kaner says, softly.

Johnny turns his head and their eyes lock. His breath catches in his throat when Kaner’s gaze drops to his lips and he’s thinking of doing something insane, something he can’t take back, when the deck creeks again. 

“Uh.”

They both turn at the same time. It’s the girl who was sitting on Kaner’s lap earlier. “Sorry but your friend is passed out near the keg and people are like, doing kegstands and shit on his body.”

Kaner groans and gets up and Johnny follows suit. The girl’s already gone back inside and the couple must have found a better place to take their action.

“I guess I should go.”

Johnny nods and runs his fingers through his hair. “You want uh, help?”

Kaner laughs. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ll get the other guys.”

“Kay.”

They stand awkwardly, shuffling their feet. “Yeah,” Kaner says.

Johnny really doesn’t want him to leave, suddenly. He tells himself to get a fucking grip.

“Uh, see you tomorrow then?’

Kaner face lights up, as if he’d forgotten. “Yeah, you know it.”

Johnny smiles back, automatically, feeling almost giddy. 

“Night, Johnny.”

He turns to go back inside and before Johnny can stop himself he calls out, “I like your shirt.”

Kaner turns back around, blinding smile still in place. “Thanks.”

Johnny nods. “Bye.”

Kaner winks and it’s sleazy and ridiculous but Johnny just laughs, shamelessly watching his ass as he goes.

\------------------------

Kaner’s already half out the door to the house, holding Kesler up with the help of Mike, Phil, and Dave when Johnny gets back into the living room. He really wanted to tell Kaner to leave the fucking guy on the floor but he knows he needs to tread lightly in this area. David’s sitting on the couch, eating Doritos and playing Call of Duty. He doesn’t _look_ terribly drunk but he’s also very quiet so Johnny can’t be sure.

“We should go, buddy,” he says. “I’ll go find Tyler and say bye to Marchy.”

Johnny doesn’t find him in the bathroom, thankfully. And he wasn’t in the kitchen. He walks in on two different couples making out in bedrooms before he knocks on Marchy’s door. It’s not fully shut though, so he just pushes his way inside and wishes he hadn’t.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” he says, taking in the sight of Tyler on top of Marchy as they kiss frantically, hands groping each other’s shirts and sliding beneath. 

They break away immediately. Tyler looks mortified but Marchy only grins. “Hey, Toes.”

Johnny glares at him. “Tyler, we’re going.”

Tyler blushes bright red and he looks up at Marchy, who’s smiling ridiculously sweetly. 

“Um.”

“I’ll call you.”

Tyler frowns. “You don’t have my number.”

“So give it to me.”

Johnny rolls his eyes and walks out, leaning against the wall near the door and waiting for them to emerge. He thinks he hears the slick sounds of mouths and a moan but he can’t be sure. 

“You’re not gonna tell my mom, right?” Tyler asks, shamefully as they walk down the stairs.

“No, dude.”

“Or David?”

Johnny sighs. “No. But if you wanna talk. You know. Whatever.” Johnny really hates talking about his feelings but Tyler’s a good kid. He really hopes Marchy isn’t planning on using him. Something tells him he’s not.

“Thanks, man,” Tyler grins and Johnny claps him on the back.

All in all, it was a weird night, but Johnny can’t say he regrets going. He falls asleep thinking about tomorrow’s practice, a smile playing at his lips.

_____________________

He pulls into the parking lot as Kaner’s getting out of his car. Kaner waves to him and Johnny’s stomach definitely doesn’t flip. Kaner’s wearing sunglasses even though it isn’t all that bright out at eight am. 

“I’m kinda hungover,” Kaner shrugs in greeting. Johnny doesn’t say anything, just takes his bag off his shoulder and hoists it onto his own. He’s sorta glad Kaner’s wearing the sunglasses so he doesn’t have to see his look. 

They don’t talk until they’re on the ice and then Kaner’s skating circles around him and goofing around but his eyes are serious.

“Sorry for like, spilling my guts last night. I was pretty drunk.”

Kaner doesn’t _look_ hungover is the thing. He also didn’t seem overly drunk last night, at least not as he’d like Johnny to think he was. Johnny doesn’t call him on it, though. “It was cool, buddy, no worries.”

He watches the corners of Kaner’s mouth curve upward briefly before he turns to skate down the ice. Johnny feels a little breathless as he skates after him.

They talk about random shit and Johnny can tell Kaner’s avoiding talking about school and his friends as much as possible. They stick to hockey and music and that’s how Johnny finds out the big dance-off is tomorrow night. 

“Does your Milkshake bring all the boys to the yard yet, Kaner?” he teases, bumping into him a little as they skate side by side. 

Kaner flashes him a million dollar smile and says, “Damn right, it’s better than yours. I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.” His voice is – flirty, almost. Johnny blames the flush he can feel heating his face on the exertion; that’s his story and he’s sticking to it. 

“I hope your moves are better than the ones you had at that club,” Johnny snorts, even though his heart is kind of racing.

Kaner smile grows even wider, if possible as they reach the net and start fishing out the pucks pushing them toward center ice. “You watchin’ me, man?”

Johnny flushes harder and pushes at him. “Yeah, watching you fail it up on the dance floor and laughing my ass off.”

Kaner pouts, exaggeratedly. It’s adorable, damn him. “You’re talking to the soon-to-be two time dance-off champion man, you bite your tongue.”

Johnny laughs and they skate toward the pucks to rifle them at the net. “You gonna film your dance for me?”

Kaner laughs, throwing his head back. “And have it end up all over the internet? No thanks, man.”

Johnny smirks and lets out a few chicken noises. 

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“If the chicken fits,” Johnny shrugs.

Kaner stares at him, mouth open. “If the _chicken_ fits? Who says that?!”

“I do,” Johnny says, mock-serious and unwavering. 

They get into a stare-down for a few seconds before Kaner cracks up and looks away and down at the puck at his feet. He shuffles it between his skates and his stick for a few moments. 

“Uh. You could, I mean you could come watch?” He looks up, uncertain expression on his face and perhaps Jonathan Toews falls in love right then and there.

“Unless you’re gonna chirp me the whole time,” Kaner adds defiantly and Johnny lets out a shaky laugh, blindsided by his feelings right now and what Kaner is offering him. 

“It’s so damn easy to get under your skin, though.”

“Ugh, fuck you,” Kaner says loudly, rifling off a slap shot.

Johnny laughs and mirrors his goal. Then he looks at Kaner. “I’d like to, though. If your sisters wouldn’t mind.”

Kaner scoffs. “Are you kidding me? They haven’t stopped talking about you. Jackie thinks you’re _dreamy_.”

Johnny feels his face flame again. If he were a different sort of person, he’d ask, “And what do you think?” But, yeah, no.

“Should I bring pom-poms?”

“I’m gonna shoot one of these pucks at your head.”

“I’d like to see you try, Kaner,” Johnny says, and he knows the words sound too fond but Kaner’s smiling at him and he really can’t be bothered to care. 

“Stupid Homecoming is tonight,” Kaner says, seemingly out of nowhere.

Johnny takes a slap shot. “Ours is next Friday. You’re going to yours?”

Kaner shrugs. “I don’t really want to. Plus the guys are giving me shit for not having a date to the dance.”

Johnny’s jaw tightens. “Oh.”

“Whatever,” Kaner says quickly. “You going to yours?”

“I guess. Not sure about the dance, though.”

“Yeah, I can’t really see you at one of those things,” Kaner says, lightly. 

Johnny quirks an eyebrow at him. “Too serious?”

“Too Canadian,” Kaner grins. 

Johnny shoots the rest of the pucks into the net in rapid succession to show Kaner exactly how _Canadian_ he is.

When they finish up and are standing at their cars, Kaner says. “So, you wanna give me your number and I’ll text you my address?”

Johnny nods, a tiny thrill shooting through him as they exchange phones and type in each other’s numbers. Johnny just has a standard phone, no keyboard or anything but Kaner has a fucking Blackberry. He feels slightly embarrassed but Kaner doesn’t look like he’s about to call him out on it.

“The big event is set to start at four. There will be pizza.”

“Okay.”

“Be sure to wear your Team Kaner shirt.”

“Please, I’m going for Jackie,” Johnny says, getting into his car as Kaner flips him off.

He gets a text message around nine-thirty. 

It’s only then he realizes Kaner programmed himself in as SuperKane.

_homecoming sux_

Johnny laughs and starts thinking about what write back when he gets another text.

_only good part is ditching the lame ass dance and smoking up under the bleachers_

Johnny wonders if that’s where Kaner’s texting him from right now, if he’s with his friends. It feels kind of illicit, like he’s Kaner’s secret or something. Like they shouldn’t be doing this; Johnny throwing aside his sense of team camaraderie and striking up a friendship or whatever it is with a star player from a rival team. Kaner sneaking around behind his friends back to spend time with Johnny. It feels – wrong and yet so right.

 _I haven’t smoked in a while_ is the only thing Johnny can think to say.

_YOU smoke???_

Johnny frowns at his phone. _why are these things so hard to believe?_

 _just cant picture you letting loose_ comes the reply and he can practically _hear_ the shrug in it. 

_try harder_ Johnny types out, and his jeans feel tight suddenly, thinking about how much he’d like to let loose with Kaner; show him everything he can do, everything he can be. 

_gotta go, kes is being a dick. c u 2morro_

Johnny sighs and rubs his hand over his dick a little. Fucking Kesler. Fucking Kaner.

_yeah, bye_

He hopes he reads it in a bitchy tone.

A minute later his phone buzzes again.

_:)_

Johnny groans.

Fucking Kaner. 

_______________

 

Johnny decides to wear the outfit he would have worn to the party if he’d known Kaner was coming. He debates wearing a baseball hat and finally decides to, but backwards. He throws on some cologne but not too much that it’s obvious. When he rings the doorbell to Kaner’s ridiculously huge house, he’s greeted to Kaner’s smiling face, which quickly evens out as he looks Johnny up and down. 

Johnny frowns, pulling at his stupidly thin white t-shirt. “What?” he asks, annoyed and suddenly self-conscious. 

Kaner’s eyes snap up to meet his and he shakes his head. “Nothing. Hi, uh. Hi.”

Johnny mouth twitches, helplessly. “Hi.” He holds up the bag in his hand. “I brought chips and soda.”

He could swear Kaner flushes. “You didn’t have to, man.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s polite.”

Kaner claps him on the back and Johnny tries not to lean into the touch. “Come on! Everyone’s waiting. Anticipation is high.”

They step inside the huge hall and Johnny tries not to notice the incredibly large chandelier overhead as he takes his shoes off. 

“Where should I put these?” he asks, holding them up. 

Kaner looks at him as if he’s insane. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“It’s common courtesy!” Johnny protests, shoving his sneakers at Kaner.

Kaner laughs. “Not in Buffalo, dude.”

“Well, Buffalo sucks, then.”

Kaner puts a hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

Kaner drops his sneakers near the door and leads him to the living room where some of the furniture appears to have been moved aside. 

Kaner’s parents stand from the couch when they enter the room.

“Mom, Dad, this is Johnny.”

Johnny shakes their hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Kane.”

“Likewise, Johnny,” Kaner’s mom says, smiling. Then she takes in his lack of shoes and smiles even more. “Patrick, you managed to bring home a friend who isn’t a heathen.”

“Ha, ha,” Kaner laughs, sarcastically. 

“I brought some snacks,” Johnny says, holding up the bag.

Mrs. Kane throws Kaner an impressed look and Johnny flushes a little. 

“Thank you, son,” Mr. Kane says, taking the bag. “We’ll set these up and be right back.”

Johnny nods and turns to say hello to Kaner’s sisters, all of whom look halfway caught between swooning and laughing. 

“You gonna mop the floor with him?” he asks Jackie as they high five. 

“You know it!”

“Hey! I’m right here!”

They both turn to Kaner. “So?” Johnny says, turning a mock-sweet grin on him. 

“You’re a terrible person.”

“No insulting the guest, Patrick,” Kaner’s mom says as his parents return with a bowl full of chips and cups and ice for the soda. 

“Johnny, there’s pizza if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll wait until after the show, thank you, Mrs. Kane.”

“Johnny likes salads,” Kaner says, obnoxiously. 

Johnny wants to give him the finger but: family. 

“Har, har,” is all he says in response, giving Kaner a stare of death. Kaner rolls his eyes but he’s smiling way too much and Johnny really wants to kiss it off him. 

“Alright so, Pat goes first since he’s reining champion,” Jessica says. “Then Erica, me, and Jackie.”

Erica hands over some pads and pencils to Johnny and her parents. “It’s your job to judge us. Take notes if you have to. Look for originality, form, technique, etc. We each will dance for a minute and the next person will jump in. At the end you’ll all discuss and come up with a winner.”

Kaner goes first. It’s… ridiculous and kinda hot. Johnny spends thirty seconds trying not to spit out his soda from laughing so hard and the other thirty seconds trying not to get hard when Kaner’s mom is right there. 

Erica does one too many suggestive moves for Johnny to be comfortable with and he feels bad that he probably won’t pick her just for that. Jessica is more reserved, but she’s also kind of stiff. 

Jackie is an utter delight and Johnny just adores her. At the end, the dancers take bows and leave the room. It only takes a second for them to look at one another and exclaim, “Jackie!” in unison.

“We can give a runner-up too,” Kaner’s mom says.

Oh. “Um, I’d pick Pat.”

Kaner’s mom smiles at him and Johnny feels awkward. 

“Same,” Kaner’s dad says. 

“Well I would have said Erica,” Mrs. Kane says, “But it’s two to one.” 

They call them back into the room and Jackie squeals and bounces around while Kaner scowls. 

“Relax, you got runner-up,” Johnny says. 

“Not the same.”

Johnny rolls his eyes at him even though he rather loves how competitive Kaner is. 

They put on a group dance to Bye Bye Bye as a finale and Johnny’s never been more entertained in his life.

They end up in the kitchen afterwards, devouring the pizza while Johnny listens to them talk about what type of new moves they should add to their next group dance.

“This was really cool,” Jessica says. “Pat, you’ve never invited any of your friends to watch before.”

Johnny looks over at him to find an uncomfortable expression. Erica elbows her. “Leave him alone, Jess.”

“What?” she asks, indignantly. 

Johnny kicks Kaner’s leg under the table until he looks up. 

“Thanks,” he mouths and Kaner smiles, bright like the sun. 

“Okay, time for video games!” 

The girls groan. “No, time for board games!”

A fight ensues and Johnny just watches with amusement. Somehow, they all end up playing Clue, Johnny kicking everyone’s butt with his epic poker face and bluffing ability.

“Never trust a Canadian,” Kaner grumbles.

“I’ve got mad skills, dawg,” Johnny deadpans. 

Everyone looks at him in horror.

“Never say that again,” Kaner replies seriously, and they all dissolve into laughter. 

Johnny kinda wishes David were here, but this is really nice too. 

They end up playing a movie trivia game on Kaner’s Playstation (Johnny wins again) and before long, Johnny is thanking Kaner’s parents for their hospitality. 

“Come back any time, Johnny,” Mrs. Kane says warmly. 

Kaner walks him to the door where he puts his shoes back on. “Well, even though I barely won anything tonight, this was still fun.”

“It was,” Johnny agrees while standing in the open doorway. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah,” Kaner says and Johnny watches him bounce on the heels of his feet.

When their eyes meet it once again feels like there’s a live current in the air. Kaner breaks the moment by punching Johnny in the shoulder, grinning awkwardly. Johnny punches him back, huffing out the breath that was caught in his throat. 

“Later, asshole,” Kaner says. His eyes are shining but they’re also darker than usual. 

“Yeah, later.”

Johnny realizes when he gets into his car that he really doesn’t want to wait until next Saturday to see Kaner again.

“This is so stupid,” he bemoans and then texts Marchy to meet him at the playground near his house.

____________________

Marchy brings beer to the park because that’s just how he rolls. 

“Dude, we’re gonna get arrested for underage drinking.”

Marchy laughs in his face. “You really need to lighten up.”

“It almost happened to me in Winnipeg!”

Marchy cracks open the beer and sits on the swings next to Johnny. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He takes a swig of Marchy’s beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’d you do today?”

“Made out with Tyler in his basement and played video games. Not necessarily in that order.”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t believe that’s actually happening.”

“I get what I want.”

“You _go_ for what you want,” Johnny corrects.

“Dude, you could too.”

“Shut up,” Johnny says, tightly.

“Look we aren’t sitting here randomly on a Sunday night to talk about me and Tyler. This is obviously ‘enemy’ territory.”

“Marchy –” Johnny starts, wearily. He doesn’t know why he originally wanted to talk about this. It’s not his thing. 

“Dude, you both have hard-ons for each other. What’s the big deal?”

“He doesn’t--” Johnny starts protesting, and then feels too drained. “I feel like I’m gonna get burned, alright?”

Marchy scoffs. “So? Take the risk, man. You’re the bravest motherfucker I know.”

Johnny scrubs his hands over his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about this.”

“Fine, let’s talk about Tyler’s mouth and how fucking perfect it is, fuck, it’s—”

“Jesus, Marchy, _stop_.”

“You’re such a prude.”

“Dude, I’m sorry, but I can’t fucking sexualize him; he’s my brother’s age.”

Marchy scrunches his face up. “Good, I don’t want you to. He’s mine.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow at him. “Yours, huh?”

“Well, not like, officially or whatever. But he will be. He’s kinda awesome. And adorable. And utterly bangable.”

Johnny ignores the last part. “You guys going to Homecoming?”

“Nah, dude, gonna get wasted on the field. Everyone else is going to the dance I think, though.”

“Maybe I’ll just chill with you guys,” Johnny says, already feeling like a third wheel.

“Whatever, man, that’s cool.”

They sit in silence for a bit until deciding to go home.

“Yo, Johnny,” Marchy calls as Johnny has his car door open.

“Yeah?”

Marchy raises his arms in the air in a shrug. “Maybe it’s worth it.”

Johnny doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand. 

“Maybe.”

____________________

The week passes in kind of a blur and he doesn’t see Kaner as he’s busy with midterms and homework and practice. They text here and there but it’s mostly just about TV, hockey, and Kaner’s upcoming birthday and how he doesn’t really have much planned. Johnny kind of wants to invite himself to hang out with him but decides against it. If Kaner wanted to, he’d let him know. Unless that was some kind of hint. Perhaps Johnny spends far too long analyzing that. 

After the football game on Friday night, everyone heads over to the dance while Marchy, Tyler and Johnny sneak under the bleachers. There’s a few people a ways down, but they can’t really see them. Johnny pulls out his mp3 player while Tyler and Marchy flirt obviously with each other; the rest of the guys actually had dates. 

Johnny closes his eyes and lose himself in his music until it gets completely dark and then Marchy nudges him, offering him a bowl. 

He thinks about turning it down but then remembers Kaner last weekend and takes a hit. After a few tokes he feels loose enough to send a text message that says _you’re right, smoking on the bleachers is the way to go._

He tells himself he isn’t disappointed that long minutes pass without a reply. Johnny’s practically asleep, unsure of how much time has passed, when someone tugs on his hoodie. 

“Dude, your boy is walking this way.”

Johnny grumbles and pulls out of his grasp. “Can it, Marchy.”

“No _seriously_ , your fucking boy is _walking this way_ ”

Johnny shoots up like a rocket, rubbing at his eyes and yeah, that’s definitely Patrick Kane making his way across the field.

“What the fuck,” Johnny whispers and starts patting at his hair which is probably sticking up in all directions. He hears Tyler giggle.

“Shut up, Sophomore, or I’ll end you.”

Tyler giggles some more. “Marchy will save me.”

“Damn straight,” Marchy says and scoots closer to him.

Kaner’s reached the side of the bleachers and ducks under. 

“I had to see this for myself,” he says, grinning at Johnny.

“Huh?” He feels fuzzy from both the pot and having been near sleep. 

“You. Stoned. I had to see it,” he says, nodding to Tyler and Marchy in greeting and then sitting beside Johnny.

“Oh,” Johnny says, rubbing at his neck. 

Kaner laughs loudly. “Johnny are you _dumb_ when you’re stoned?”

“No, shut up,” Johnny mumbles. 

“I think he gets even quieter when high, man,” says Marchy. “He’s barely talked.”

“Oh god, that’s so sad,” Kaner replies, sounding delighted, before stealing the bowl and lighter from the grass.

“I hate you all,” Johnny says before lying back down. A second later Kaner is lying beside him, way too close. Johnny swallows.

“We’re gonna walk around,” Marchy announces, loudly, _obviously_ and Johnny wants to kill him. 

They lay in silence for a few minutes before he feels Kaner’s body shake. 

“It’s freezing,” he says, rubbing his hands over his arms. He’s wearing a sweater that doesn’t look all that thick.

“This is nothing compared to Winnipeg in November.”

“Well, we all can’t be wilderness men like you,” he retorts, teeth chattering. 

Johnny rolls his eyes, though it’s mostly at himself for finding this endearing. 

“Here,” he says, taking off his hoodie and offering it to Kaner. 

Kaner stares at it, then looks at Johnny. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Johnny pushes it into his hands. “Just take it, man.”

Kaner does, reluctantly, and Johnny shouldn’t love the sight of him putting on his clothes so much, but there you go. He looks away, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Thanks,” Kaner says, and Johnny must be imagining the strangled tone to his voice. 

Johnny nods and lies back down. 

Kaner motions to his mp3 player. “What were you listening to?”

“Explosions in the Sky.”

Kaner turns his had and wow, they’re way too close right now. Johnny’s kina lost in blue eyes and red lips. 

“Never heard of them.”

“Here,” Johnny says, giving Kaner the left earbud to put in his right ear. 

He realizes, even stoned, that he’s acting out nearly the exact scene from his head a few weeks ago.

“Is this just instrumental?” Kaner asks after a few minutes.

“Ugh, yes, shut up.”

“Chill, dude,” Kaner says, shoving him a little. Johnny shoves right back.

“I like it,” Kaner says quietly, after a few minutes more. 

Johnny turns his head and opens his eyes to find Kaner already watching him. 

“Hi,” Johnny says, feeling dopey and happy all of a sudden. 

Kaner’s mouth twitches. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Johnny says, watching Kaner’s lips.

“Hey,” he whispers back, slowly, and then Johnny feels the slightest brush of fingertips on his knee, inching toward the rip in his jeans. He sucks in a breath and holds Kaner’s gaze, heart stuttering as Kaner crooks his fingers into the hole there, brushing against Johnny’s skin which is overly warm compared to the weather. 

Johnny licks his lips and watches as Kaner’s eyes follow the movement. Everything narrows down to Kaner’s fingers stroking his knee and Kaner’s eyes watching his mouth.

Johnny’s going to move, he’s going to fucking move in and just get this shit over with, when his phone goes off in his pocket and they both jump backward as if burned. 

“Fuck,” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket, glancing at Kaner who looks dazed. His eyes are wide and he’s licking at his lips nervously. 

The text is from Marchy saying a security guard is patrolling the parking lot. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, we should go.”

He hears Kaner sigh heavily and hates the world. 

They step onto the field and Johnny can make out Tyler and Marchy under the other bleachers.

“I’m in the lot over there,” Kaner motions to his left. 

“Ah. I’m straight ahead.”

Kaner scratches at his cheek. “Okay. You too baked to drive?”

Johnny laughs. “Nah, I think I’m good now.”

Kaner eyes him skeptically but lets it go. 

“Alright uh, I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Kaner says quickly, and nearly sprints away. 

Johnny groans and walks slowly back to his car, seeing Tyler and Marchy already pulling away. 

It isn’t until he’s halfway home that he realizes Kaner still has his hoodie.  
_____________________________

Kaner’s sitting in his car when Johnny gets to the rink on Saturday. Johnny takes a deep breath before opening his door and getting his gear out of the back seat. Kaner still hasn’t gotten out of his car and Johnny wonders if he’s asleep or something. He suddenly feels weary. He definitely wasn’t stoned enough to not remember every second of last night, the feel of Kaner’s touch like fire to his skin. He might have jerked off to the memory of it, biting his fist roughly as his body trembled. 

Kaner finally gets out of his car and spares Johnny a quick glance before grabbing his stuff. 

Johnny falls in step beside him and they nod to each other. It’s – tense, Johnny thinks. He feels on edge and Kaner’s not smiling, not talking and Johnny’s not really sure how to diffuse it all. It gets better when they’re on the ice. They can chirp and swat at each other with their sticks and it all feels natural. 

They really give it their all this practice though, doing a ton of drills and by the end of it, Johnny’s sweating through and through and feels disgusting. 

“I’m gonna shower, man.”

Kaner looks down at himself. “Oh, uh, yeah. Same.”

“You bring other clothes?”

“Yeah,” Kaner saying, looking nervous. Johnny sighs to himself. Everything, besides the way they are on the ice together, feels off between them now.

The locker room has dividers between the showers which Johnny is thankful for. It still doesn’t completely distract from the fact that Kaner’s in the stall next him, naked.

Johnny finishes quickly and is already in his boxers by the time Kaner’s out. He looks up when Kaner walks over to his bag, clad only in a towel. Kaner’s eyes cut to him quickly before he turns back. Johnny can see his throat bob as he swallows. 

Johnny doesn’t look at him. It takes some very strong willpower but – it just doesn’t feel right. 

Kaner clears his throat and Johnny looks up from where he’s tying his sneakers. 

He’s dressed, thankfully. 

And he’s taking something out of his bag and – oh.

Kaner walks toward him and Johnny gulps, hard. 

“I... forgot to give this back to you.”

Johnny nods, mouth dry as he reaches for his hoodie. They’re fingers brush; Johnny’s body feels like an electric live wire. 

Kaner drops his hand but holds Johnny’s gaze and licks his lips. 

“Johnny, I—“

Johnny feels his heart begin to race and he gives in, puts a hand on Kaner’s chest, because he can’t handle another to-be-continued. “Yeah?”

Kaner looks at him through his eyelashes, licks his lips once again, nervously this time. “Can I—“

Johnny fists his hand in Kaner’s t-shirt and pulls him in, “Yes,” he breathes against his lips, their eyes still locked, before he closes them and presses his lips to Kaner softly. Kaner gasps and kisses back, applying only the slightest bit of pressure. Their mouths move together, closed lipped yet slick with spit. Their rhythm is a little off and Johnny’s lips are almost too wet but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. It’s so better than okay that his chest gets a little tight. 

“Johnny sighs against Kaner’s lips and moves back, which causes Kaner’s eyes to snap open. 

“Did that suck?” He looks frantic and kind of wrecked already. Johnny’s hit with an insane jolt of want.

He laughs breathlessly and runs his hand up and down Kaner’s chest. “Stop fishing for compliments.” Then he dives in again, introducing a hint of tongue before pulling back again and making Kaner groan. 

“Stop teasing, dickbag,” he says, giggling and Johnny fists his hand in his shirt again, evil glint in his eye. 

“I’m not,” Johnny murmurs. He tilts his head and is leaning in, nice and slow and deliberate, when the door swings open.

“Yo, Kaner? I saw your---”

They forget to step away from each other, just stare in shock at Kesler standing in the doorway, eyes wide.

Johnny feels his stomach twist even before the words come. 

“Dude, did this fag try and kiss you or something?” 

And then Kaner’s shoving Johnny away and turning to Kesler, rubbing his fingers through his hair shakily. “Yeah, he fucking wishes.”

Johnny feels like he’s just been doused with a bucket of cold water. 

“Want me to kick his ass?” Kesler asks, coming up to clap Kaner on the back from where he’s now standing near his bag. He watches Kaner shake his bowed head and wills his feet to move, grabbing his own bag. 

He moves quickly and gets up in Kesler’s face, pushing him hard but not as hard as he could. “I’d beat the shit out of you right now but then I’ll hurt my hand and won’t be able to beat you on the ice.”

Kesler pushes him back. “Keep telling yourself that, asshole. And stay the fuck away from boy.”

Johnny snorts and glances over at Kaner, who is still looking down, his face pale. “Don’t you fucking worry, I will,” he spits out, words like venom on his tongue. He thinks he might catch a flinch from Kaner. He hopes so anyway. 

“Fuck with me again and I’ll destroy you,” Johnny says darkly, giving Kesler one last shove and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until he’s in his car. It’s part anger, part adrenaline and a whole lot of crushing heartbreak. 

“Asshole!” he screams, pounding his fist into the center of his steering wheel.

Johnny drives home faster than he usually does, fuming with barely contained rage. When he gets home he takes a few deep breaths and just sits in his car, head back against the seat. He pulls out his phone and types numbly. 

_he’s as much of a douchebag as i thought he was._

Marchy replies immediately.

_fuck im sorry dude. want me 2 to piss in his water bottle?_

Johnny lets out a choked laugh. 

_not fucking worth it_

_well let me know if i need to kick some yankee ass_

Johnny smiles and takes another breath before going inside. He finds David playing video games in the basement and joins him on the couch. David hands over the control wordlessly.

“You look like shit,” he says, mildly.

“Feel like shit. Kicking your ass will help, though.”

“Yeah, go ahead and try.”

Johnny pushes at him with his shoulder and David pushes back. Before long he’s getting out his bottled up anger through mindless violence and enjoying the presence of his brother. His phone buzzes and Johnny freezes, yet can’t make himself ignore it.

_I’m so fucking sorry_

Johnny grits his teeth and pauses the game, ignoring David’s whine.

_Go fuck yourself._

He sighs and throws his phone down on the couch.

It buzzes again a few seconds later. 

“What the hell, Johnny?”

Johnny ignores David and picks up his phone.

_Please, Johnny, I’m really really fucking sorry._

He stabs at the keys, typing out his response. 

_GO. FUCK. YOUR. SELF._

About two minutes go by before his phone rings.

“I’m ignoring it,” he tells David. “Let’s just play.”

They do. Johnny’s phone keeps ringing and ringing though, and he knows he should just turn it off but he won’t give Kaner that fucking power. 

He dies in the game and slams down the controller, picking up his phone and stalking angrily to his room where he finally answers.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you pathetic piece of shit,” he grits out, low and controlled and hangs up to Kaner’s desperate, “Wait, John—“

He leaves his phone in his room and David just watches him as he sits back down. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Wanna play?”

Johnny grins, grateful. “Yeah.”

So they do. All night long and it’s cathartic. 

When Johnny returns to his room he has three voicemails and seven missed calls. He ignores the voicemails, puts his phone on silent and crawls into bed. He guesses this is what heartbreak or some shit like that feels like. He analyzes all his moves like they were hockey plays, dissects exactly where he went wrong before realizing it was everywhere. 

____________________________

 

Johnny spends the next day with his phone left on silent. There’s text messages he doesn’t want to check. Instead, he hangs out with David some more and then goes bowling with his family that night and it’s – exactly what he needed. His parents keep shooting him worried glances and Johnny’s sure he’s got bags under his eyes or some shit like that on the account that he _couldn’t fucking turn his mind off_ last night but they don’t say anything, and when Johnny beats everyone he feels a little better. He realizes vaguely it’s Kaner’s birthday. He hopes he’s having the worst one ever. 

On Monday he zombies through his classes and when he’s walking to his car he stops short, blinking. Because yes, that’s Kaner parked right beside it, standing and waiting for him.

Johnny shakes off the shock and hardens his gaze, making a beeline for his car. 

“Johnny,” Kaner says softly. 

“You some fucking stalker now?” he says tightly, getting his door open. 

Kaner’s hand comes to rest on his arm. “Please, just--”

Johnny shakes out of his grip and pushes him away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He glares at Kaner, watches as his face crumbles; his eyes look shiny and his eyes are red and he looks – like shit. Worse than Johnny.

Fucking good, he thinks and gets into his car, leaving Kaner staring after him in his rearview. 

______________________________________

They play Patterson the next night and Johnny throws all of his frustration and anger into the game. Maybe he plays rougher than he should. Maybe he bangs Kesler into the boards a few times and takes two penalties. He only wishes Kaner were on the ice at the same time as him again so he could take him down.

They still manage to win and the coach isn’t too happy with his sloppiness but lets it go. Marchy claps him on the back in the locker room. “Damn, dude. You were an animal tonight.”

Johnny shrugs and scrubs his fingers through his wet hair. He wishes that made him feel better. Winning is always great but right now he just feels like he’s torn in two and hockey isn’t totally fixing that.

The next day he goes to practice and holes up in his room even though Marchy invites him to go to Sports Plus. 

At around eleven-thirty he’s staring at the Sakic poster on his ceiling when he hears music from outside his window. He walks over, opens the blinds and then blinks rapidly. It’s Kaner, standing near his car as it blasts music, while he holds his empty hands over his head.

Johnny opens the window and leans out, face pinched in confusion and annoyance. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“The internet tells me this is what people in movies do to say you’re sorry,” Kaner says, his arms still stupidly overhead. 

“You don’t have a boombox right now, you asshole.”

Kaner shoulders shrug, his arms still up. “Yeah well, imagine one, okay? It was either this or the You’ve Got Mail route but I don’t have your e-mail, so.” 

He has on a backwards hat and a plaid shirt and his expression is earnest. Johnny just wants to tear him down.

Peter Gabriel continues to sound from Kaner’s car stereo.

“This isn’t even a song that’s relevant to us! It’s just the song from that movie!”

Kaner stomps his foot in the grass, presumably because he refuses to lower his arms. “Well, if I knew the name of that Explosions in the Sky song, I would be playing that! It was this or Milkshake!”

Johnny sighs, suddenly horribly drained. “Kaner, just go home.”

“No. Please, just let me talk to you.”

“It’s almost midnight, asshole, you’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood.”

Kaner shakes his head. “I won’t leave, dammit. I’ll play this song on repeat all night.”

Johnny groans and slams his hand down on the window sill. “Fine, you motherfucker. You’ve got five minutes, tops.”

Then he toes into his sneakers without untying them and grabs his hoodie, throwing it over his head. He washed it, thankful it no longer smells like Kaner.

Kaner’s arms are finally down when he steps outside. 

“Do you – in the car?” Kaner asks hopefully, but Johnny shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest and standing a good few feet away on the lawn. 

“No. This is fine.”

A disappointed look flashes across his face before he nods. 

“I—Johnny, I don’t know why I did that, I just… I panicked and—”

Johnny’s chest tightens and he raises his hand. “Look, let me save you the trouble. I’m fucking done with you.”

Kaner jerks back as if slapped. “You… But. Please just give me another chance.”

Johnny shakes his head, blinking rapidly and staring at his feet before meeting Kaner’s eyes. “What for? You’re not... I don’t even know who you are.”

“You do, though. You do.”

Johnny glares at him. “How could I, Kaner? _You_ don’t even know.”

“Is everyone supposed to fucking have themselves figured out at sixteen? Or, well, seventeen now I guess, just because you fucking do? Excuse me for not being perfect!”

Johnny sighs, heavily. “I don’t have myself totally figured out, I’m still learning, still changing. But I do know the things I am and the things I’m not.”

“You know the things I am too,” Kaner says, pleadingly. 

Johnny looks at him, takes in his eyes that scream kindness. 

“I know… what you are and I know what you try to be and I’m not sure which is the real you. Or maybe they’re both you. And if that’s so, then there’s parts of you I really don’t fucking like, Kaner. And I’m not about to tell someone they have to change for me. That’s not how this shit should work. You need to… find someone who likes that part of you.”

Kaner shakes his head rapidly and takes a step closer. “That’s not me… the guy in the locker room, the guy at the club, at the party, I. Fuck, Johnny, I was considered a momma’s boy when I first got to high school. I had bad acne and braces and even worse hair and no one fucking talked to me until I had an awesome party for my birthday and rented out a movie theater because my parents could afford that shit and then people just – wanted to be my friend because of things like that and I guess I just—I’ve just gone with it. You’re… you’re the first person who… who doesn’t care about money or partying or anything like that. You’re different and.... fuck, Johnny, I really like you, okay? I like you so damn much.” He whispers the last part brokenly, and Johnny feels some of his anger ebb away.

“I...” he sighs, shaking his head and kicking at the grass. His stomach is rolling and his heart is pounding. “I like you too. Well, I like who you _say_ is the real you but I can’t fucking trust you, Kaner. I may as well not even exist in front of your friends.”

“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry for not wanting to come out to _Ryan Kesler_ of all people!”

Johnny’s head snaps up, angrily. “Fuck you, not just that. It’s any time I’ve ever seen you with them. You just fucking go along with them; you don’t even want to acknowledge we’re friends much less anything else.”

“I—“

“No, hold on,” Johnny says, anger renewed. “Fuck you for thinking I expected you to come out or something. I didn’t fucking expect that, but I also didn’t expect you to make it like it was _me_ and act like I was lower than dirt. You could have laughed it off, you could have cursed him out and said we were just goofing around or something. You could have acknowledged you were there with me because you _wanted_ to be, Kaner.”

Kaner looks miserable by the time Johnny is finished, his face flushed red. “You’re right,” he says, quietly. “I should have.”

Johnny presses the balls his palms to his eyes roughly. “Ugh, look, I’m not about to fucking tell you who you should be friends with or give you some ultimatum that it’s them or me, but I’ve told you before they treat you like shit and you even admitted it and just. I don’t know. Just figure out who you want to be.”

Kaner shivers, his teeth chattering in the cold, his eyes intent and serious. “I have, Johnny, believe me. I’ll never pull that shit again with you. I’m not that guy.”

Johnny crosses his arms over his chest and lifts his chin. “Prove it.”

“Anything. Name it.”

Johnny shakes his head. “No, Kaner. This is up to you. Figure out how to prove it to me.”

Kaner’s lips part and then he nods rapidly. “I will. I seriously will.”

Johnny considers him for a second, reads the honesty and desperation in his expression.

“Okay,” he says, simply and turns to go back inside. 

He doesn’t hear Kaner pull away until he’s back inside. 

___________________________________

The next morning, Kaner is waiting for Johnny in the parking lot of his school, eyes bloodshot and holding up a paper bag.

“What are you doing here?” Johnny says when he gets out of his car. “Don’t you have class?”

Kaner shrugs, “Homeroom, whatever. This is for you.”

Johnny takes the bag and the smell of bacon hits his nose.

“Kaner…”

“It’s Tim Horton’s, like back home.”

Johnny shakes his head, half charmed but mostly exasperated and presses the bag into Kaner’s hands. “I didn’t mean you had to buy me breakfast.”

“No, I know. I wanted to.”

“This isn’t about you buying me things. This is about you… being stronger. For you. Be better, Kaner,” he says earnestly, knocking his knuckles lightly against Kaner’s shoulder. 

Kaner looks dejected at Johnny returning his offering but quickly nods holding his chin high. “Okay, Johnny.”

That night while Johnny’s working on his Physics homework Kaner texts him.

_Club tomorrow w/ your friends? :)?_

Johnny thinks about it.

_And your friends?_

_nope_

Johnny considers it for another moment. _Alright, let me ask them_

_\o/_

He rolls his eyes and sends out texts. They’re all in, except Marchy asks if he still has to kick Kaner’s ass.

 _I’ll let you know later_ , Johnny texts back. 

Tyler’s too young to go and Marchy ends up bummed as shit, spending most of the time talking Johnny’s ear off about the injustice of age discrimination while they stand by the speakers. Dustin, Brandon and Zach brought their girlfriends and are bumping and grinding on the dance floor. Kaner’s trying not to interfere with Marchy and Johnny’s conversation; he’s just standing awkwardly near Johnny’s shoulder, sipping on a Shirley Temple of all things. 

“You’re ridiculous with that drink,” Johnny says over the music. 

“Your—“ And then he cuts himself off, his mouth snapping shut.

Johnny frowns at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Johnny jostles him with his shoulder. “No, what?”

Kaner tosses him an annoyed look before resigning. “I was gonna say your face is ridiculous but then realized that would probably get me even more in the dog house.”

Johnny releases his first real laugh since all of this started and Kaner’s eyes light up in result.

“I don’t want you to – censor yourself when it comes to you and me. That’s who we are, I don’t have a problem with that part.”

“Oh,’ Kaner says shyly and ducks his head.

Johnny wants to punch him. And then kiss him. Or vice versa. It’s confusing.

“Well then,” he says with feeling, lifting his chin. “Your face is ridiculous.”

“My face is the stuff dreams are made of.”

Kaner snorts. “More like nightmares.”

Johnny nods, slowly. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Kaner.”

Kaner grins and by the end of the exchange Johnny finds he’s grinning right back. 

The rest of the night goes smoothly; Kaner engages the guys in conversation and actively hangs out with Johnny. Even Marchy warms up to him by the end, loosening up on his bro-code.

They head to a diner afterward and Kaner makes everyone laugh with a ridiculous story about gigantic turtles having sex with each other at the Philadelphia zoo and how there were more spectators gathering there than at an Islanders game.

They stand in the parking lot at the end of the night, everyone else having just pulled away.

“How did I do?” Kaner asks eagerly, as if waiting for Johnny to grade his performance.

“They liked you well enough,” Johnny says, voice non-committal.

“And you?” Kaner asks, hopefully. 

Johnny sighs. “Don’t push it, Kaner.”

If Kaner’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it; he just keeps on grinning broadly. 

“I have tickets to the Sabres game tomorrow. Go with me.”

Johnny eyes him skeptically. “When did you buy these tickets?”

Kaner holds his hands up. “No, seriously, I’ve had them for months. I can show you the ticketmaster order. I was gonna take Kesler but fuck that guy. Not like he paid for his ticket, anyway.”

Johnny frowns. “Tell me how much and I’ll give you the money.”

Kaner shake his head. “No, I. With you I don’t care.”

“I care,” Johnny says, levelly. “And I don’t want you thinking this is a date or something,” he adds, warningly. 

“Oh,” Kaner says, sadly. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Johnny can’t help but add, “Besides, on dates I’d be wanting to buy _you_ things.”

Kaner raises his head, a slow, sated smile creeping across his face. “Yeah?”

Johnny punches him in the shoulder lightly. “Yeah, but that’s a ways away. If ever.”

Kaner looks like he didn’t even hear him though, he just keeps grinning as though he won the lottery.

“Jesus, put that smile away, alright?”

Kaner evens out his face, and says soberly, “Alright, Johnny. We can square up tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the arena.”

“We can just--”

“I’ll meet you, Kaner.”

Kaner sighs. “Fine, fine. Night, Johnny,” he says happily and gets into his car. 

_am I being stupid?_ he texts Marchy from his car. 

_you’re always stupid_

_fuck you_

Marchy calls him and Johnny puts him on speaker as he drives.

“Did you make out with him in the parking lot?”

“No!” Johnny shouts.

“Okay. That probably would have been stupid. So no. Not being stupid, I guess?”

“Can’t believe you’re advising people against making out.”

“Yeah well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Do you like him?’ Johnny asks. 

“No, I like Tyler. He’s too blonde.”

Johnny groans. “Marchy, come on.”

He can hear the shrug in Marchy’s voice. “He was funny and shit. Thought he treated the girls well, hung on your every word. I dunno, seems like good people.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “I guess we’ll see.”

Marchy laughs. “Dating you should come with a list of requirements.”

Johnny curses and hangs up in his ear. 

\--------------------------------

By unspoken agreement, their practices are on hold indefinitely. Johnny’s glad he didn’t have to tell Kaner that. It’s a day game Saturday and they text each other their locations and end up meeting near one of the ticket booths. Johnny makes Kaner tell him how much the ticket was and pays him right away while Kaner makes a put upon face. 

Their seats are pretty decent. They’re playing the Avalanche and Johnny feels compelled to root for them for the sake of Sakic.

“Blasphemy,” Kaner gasps.

Johnny shrugs. “Just because I live here now doesn’t mean I have to go for the team.”

They disagree on calls and scream at each other more than the game. The people near them give looks but Johnny just stares at them until they stop. 

“My hero!” Kaner swoons.

“Shut up,” says Johnny, stealing some of his popcorn. Kaner doesn’t offer to buy Johnny everything under the sun and he’s kind of impressed.

Their knees bump together at times during the game when they each get overly excited but Johnny pulls away each time and tries not to notice Kaner’s disappointment.

The Avs win by one and Kaner sulks as if he personally lost.

“I think you’re worse than me.”

“Whatever,” Kaner says, munching on his cotton candy like a child as they exit.

They talk about the game until they reach Johnny’s car.

“So, you wanna get something to eat?”

Johnny politely avoids the obvious remark that Kaner’s been stuffing his face the entire game.

“No thanks.”

Kaner bobs his head quickly. “Right, okay.”

“Thanks,” Johnny says. “This was cool.”

“Yeah. I had fun, man.”

They stand for a second and then Kaner awkwardly sticks out his hand. “Bye.”

Johnny smirks and shakes his hand. “Bye.”

He ignores the jolt he feels at the touch, and avoids Kaner’s eyes, too.

Johnny doesn’t hear from Kaner for a few days and wonders if he’s getting advice from his sisters. Cosmo would definitely write an article entitled “10 Ways to Make Him Miss You” and Kaner would definitely read it.

Not that Johnny _is_ missing him. That’s not what’s happening here. He’s just a little surprised, is all. Kaner had been coming on so strong.

He doesn’t hear from him until Thursday night when he texts. Johnny definitely didn’t feel a jolt of excitement at the SuperKane notification (he still never changed the contact info)

_come out with me and the guys 2morro nite_

Johnny laughs to himself. _I think I’ll pass._

_not taking no for an answer. I’ll pick u up at 7. We’re going to a movie and then the diner._

_I didn’t mean I wanted you to be more self-assertive with *me* asshole_

_lol, too fucking bad. Be ready at 7._

Johnny sighs and pinches his nose. _I have my own fucking car, you know_

There’s a pause between texts, at least a minute. _just let me do this_

Johnny reads it in the soft, uncertain way he knows Kaner can get. 

“Dammit,” he whispers.

_fine._

__________________

Johnny’s dreading Friday night and doesn’t even attempt to look nice. He just wears a grey hooded sweatshirt and jeans with a black baseball cap. He foregoes the cologne.

Kaner pulls up at exactly seven and Johnny rushes downstairs so he doesn’t come inside, really not in the mood right now for a parent introduction. 

Kaner’s out of his car and looks surprised when Johnny walks down the driveway.

“I would’ve come in.”

Johnny waves him off and tries not to think about how Kaner clearly _did_ put some effort into his appearance if his button down blue shirt and slick back hair have anything to do with it.

“I like your hair the other way,” Johnny says before he can stop himself.

Kaner blinks in surprise and then grins, smugly.

Johnny groans. “Forget I said that, let’s just go.”

Kaner thankfully drops it. He plays some horrible top forty station as they drive and Johnny starts to wonder if maybe this was all a scheme to get him alone. Maybe there will be no one else at the movie. To be honest, he’d prefer that outcome.

Sadly, it’s not the case and Johnny suffers the scrupulous stares of Kaner’s friends as he arrives. 

“I really thought this was a joke,” Kesler says. 

“Joke’s on you, I guess,” Kaner replies and Johnny’s eyes cut to him quickly in surprise.

“Whatever, let’s get the tickets.”

Once on line for the concession, Kesler says he’s going to save seats and asks Kaner to get him a popcorn and soda.

“No, dude, get it yourself,” Kaner says when Kesler’s already a few feet away toward the theater.

“I’m getting seats!”

“Then fucking get it when we get there!”

Johnny looks back and forth between them and notices the other guys do the same.

“God, you’re on your period today. Alright, fine.” 

Johnny bites back a grin and watches Kaner as he looks straight ahead. He notices his hands are shaking slightly and something aches inside him. He knows that Kaner’s not _afraid_ of Kesler, it’s not like it’s some case of bullying or shit like that. It’s his entire social status that he’s worried about; of again becoming the kid that apparently no one really talked to.

Johnny bumps him with his hip and Kaner jumps before meeting Johnny’s smiling eyes. Then he laughs a little breathlessly. When he pays for his own twizzlers, Johnny notices his hands are steady. 

He sits next to Kaner in the theater, at the end of the aisle. Their knees touch again; Johnny moves away at first but halfway through he keeps his there. That’s around the same time he stops paying attention to anything happening on screen.

After, they go to the diner and Johnny finds Kaner’s other friends aren’t so terrible and definitely treat him a little better. Kesler’s been scowling the whole night which means Johnny’s had a shit-eating grin on his face nearly the entire time. 

Kaner’s talking about the Sabres game and the no-call towards the end. 

“This ass over here thought it was the right call, I swear I wanted to dump my popcorn on his head and get salt in his eyes.”

The other guys laugh but Kesler’s eyes widen. “You took _him_?”

Johnny looks right at Kaner who’s staring back at Kesler’s levelly, not wavering or looking as if he just accidentally stuck his foot in his mouth. “Yeah, I did.”

“What the actual fuck, a week ago he was jumping you in the locker room.”

Johnny watches Kaner grit his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kesler groans in disgust. “Whatever. He your best friend now or something?”

“Jealous?” Kaner grins.

Kesler rolls his eyes. “Please, dick.”

“I dunno, Kes,” Dave says. “Sounds to me like you might be.”

“You’re all losers.”

He actually _pouts_ and everyone laughs. Johnny just smirks and meets Kaner’s eyes, sharing a secret look of approval. 

By the end of it, Kesler still hates Johnny, Johnny still hates Kesler but Kaner didn’t take any shit tonight and didn’t treat Johnny like he didn’t exist and really, it can’t be that simple, can it? Johnny’s not exactly ready for it to be – the whole thing still stings and when he thinks about kissing Kaner again, there’s the bad association of that first kiss and the punch to the gut feeling he felt afterward. It’s not exactly a sexy thought. 

The other guys aren’t absolutely terrible; they still aren’t Johnny’s style, really, but they made fun of Kesler a bit and that’s okay with him. 

They’re parked in front of Johnny’s house, some horrible pop ballad playing on Kaner’s radio, and Johnny looks over at him, notices he’s tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, nervously. 

The air in the car feels stagnant around him. 

Johnny can’t take it anymore. “So, was this a date or something?”

Kaner throws him a sidelong glance, biting his lip. “Heh. Yeah. How’d I do?”

Johnny huffs out a laugh. “You took me on a date with your douchebag friends, how do you think you did?”

Kaner looks at him, exasperated. “It was for the whole ‘Prove Johnny Wrong’ project! And _I_ wasn’t a douchebag, was I?”

“Kinda,” Johnny says, watching Kaner’s face fall before adding, “To _them_. Which is alright, I guess.”

Kaner laughs. “You’re a hypocrite, man.”

“Whatever.”

“A hypocrite of douchebaggery,” Kaner continues, shark-like smile on his face. 

“I plead the fifth,” Johnny says and then he smiles a little, unable to help it. Kaner’s smile widens and they look at each other.

“I… I think I did good tonight,” Kaner says, suddenly serious, as if he’s speaking to himself.

Johnny feels his chest grow tight. “Yeah. You seriously did.”

Kaner stares at him openly, vulnerable. 

Johnny clears his throat, feeling that familiar pull when it comes to looking at Kaner for too long. “I’m still not ready to kiss you again, though.”

He feels he should at least be honest in that regard. It’s all still too raw, even though Kaner really is making epic strides for Johnny’s sake, and his own. 

Kaner nods, a little sadly. “Yeah, no, I figured. I know we went seriously backwards with all that.”

Then he holds up his fist. 

Johnny stares at him quizzically. 

“Well, gimme something at least!” he says, miming a punching motion with his fist. 

“Oh,” Johnny says dumbly, and bumps his fist into Kaner’s. “You’re certifiably strange.”

Kaner cracks a grin. “Whatever, you just fist-bumped me, you totally dig me.”

“Maybe,” Johnny mutters, and then gets out of the car before his poker face fails and Kaner realizes just how much Johnny is downplaying his feelings.

__________________________________________

In retrospect, Johnny probably should have seen it coming. Both the actual hit and the possibility of it but yeah, he really didn’t even think about until he was down on the ice after being pinned against the boards while trying to get the puck and having his leg kicked out beneath him, falling down awkwardly with his knee twisting and only then does he see Kesler’s number skating away while the ref blows the whistle loudly.

It’s the week after all the shit at the movie theater and Johnny hasn’t seen Kaner, but they’ve been texting and even talked on the phone one night. Kaner’s kept saying Kesler’s being an ass about the whole thing, but Kaner wasn’t backing down. Johnny’s not sure why, but he does trust him on that part.

Now, the following Thursday, he was on the ice, grimacing in pain. Marchy helps him up and as he makes his way off the ice, now with the help of the ref, he sees Kesler headed to the penalty box while Kaner screams at him from the side of the bench.

“Fuck you, man, that was fucking unnecessary and you know it. This isn’t the fucking NHL. I’m done with your shit.”

Kaner’s eyes are furious, his face bright red and when he meets Johnny’s eyes the anger softens to concern and Johnny can only grimace a half-smile back and nod his head pointedly, trying to tell him its fine and to be cool all at once. 

He’s taken to the hospital in an ambulance (really, Johnny finds that rather extreme but there’s no medical staff on hand at these games and the schools don’t want responsibility someone leaving injured without getting it taken care of) and his parents arrive, worried. An X-ray reveals just a sprain, however, and nothing that warrants further examination via an MRI. He’s told he has to remain out of school for at least a week and hockey at least two. He’s given painkillers and is told to ice it.

When he’s finally home a few hours later he finds five text messages on his phone from when he had to shut it off due to the machines at the hospital.

One is from Marchy saying that he is _definitely_ going to piss in Kesler’s water bottle. The rest are from Kaner, all varieties of “are you alright?” and “I wanna beat his fucking face in” and “apparently I can’t go to the hospital because you were brought into the ER but otherwise I would.”

Johnny’s smiling like an idiot by the time he’s done reading them all and he forgets how much his knee hurts or how much he’d like Ryan Kesler to bleed out in front of him. 

_________________________________________________

Johnny’s knee is in a brace and can’t really put too much pressure on his leg right now. He has a crutches but he really hasn’t mastered them yet. His doorbell rings around noon the next day and it takes him like three minutes to even get there. He’s gonna be pissed as hell if the person is gone already.

It’s Kaner.

“Hey, uh. Hi,” he says, looking at Johnny’s crutches. “Ugh, dude.”

Johnny presses his lips together. “Yeah, well.”

Kaner looks half worried to death and half mad as hell. 

“Let me help you,” he says, and steps inside, replacing the crutches with his body and getting an arm around Johnny’s waist. Johnny shivers at the touch and leans into him, slightly. He smells good and his body is warm in spite of the weather. 

They get back to Johnny’s room and Kaner helps him lie back down and puts a pillow under his leg. 

“What are you doing here, by the way? Don’t you have class?”

Kaner shrugs. “I cut.”

Johnny frowns at him. “Kaner.”

“Look, I figured you needed help, okay.”

Johnny bites down on a grin. 

“Alright, whatever.”

Kaner makes him ramen noodles and types up Johnny’s hand written English essay for him. When David gets home, Johnny introduces them. David raises his eyebrows a little and Johnny knows what it must look like, as Kaner is sitting sprawled on the floor with Johnny’s notes all around, one hand fussing with the ice pack on Johnny’s leg.

David gives him his Trig and Physics homework and then they work on that together. 

“Why are you doing this?” Johnny says after Kaner comes in with another bowl of ramen and a new ice pack. 

Kaner looks up at him after placing the ice pack, wrapped in a towel, on his knee. His eyes are clear and shining. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Johnny feels his face heat up and he swallows hard, heart thudding loudly in his chest. 

“I’m done with Kesler,” Kaner says, voice low, as he comes to sit on the side of the bed, near Johnny’s chest. “Fuck that asshole.”

Johnny’s fingers itch to take his hand but he holds back. “You know I was never trying to make you choose between your friends, right? I just knew you were more than how they made you act, how they treated you.”

Kaner nods, seriously. “I know. I hadn’t wanted to see it for a long time. Hell, even my _mom_ has made comments.”

Johnny laughs. “Well, your mom is a smart lady.”

Kaner groans. “And I’m just a dumb-ass.”

“Well, yes,” Johnny agrees, solemnly, “You’re an American teenager.”

“Ugh, fuck you, _Canada_.”

“Well, not like this,” Johnny gestures to his leg, and watches Kaner’s reaction turn from annoyance to confusion to dawning realization.

“Oh. Ohhhh. Really?”

Johnny chews on his bottom lip. “Yeah, I think so.”

Kaner’s smile is so wide Johnny thinks he must be hurting his jaw. 

Then he feels fingers inching into his own and his breathing stutters as he opens his palm to fold his fingers in between Kaner’s, fitting their palms together. They sit there grinning stupidly at one another until his mom comes home. 

Johnny figures now is as good a time as any for that parent introduction. 

___________________________________________________________________________

_Epilogue_

They text and talk on the phone a lot over the next week, and Kaner even comes over a few times after school, doting on Johnny and having dinner with his family. His mom takes him aside and tells Johnny she likes him. He’s always respected his mom’s opinion and finds himself grinning. 

Kaner tells him about the death stares he and Kesler have been giving each other in the halls and how the guys have mostly been Team Kaner. 

“It’s like Team Edward vs. Team Jacob, okay? I’m totally Edward because you know, cool hot vampire. Kesler’s just the weird werewolf freak who doesn’t get the hot chick i.e. you.”

Johnny groans. “One, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again. You haven’t stopped talking about that book since you read it last weekend. Two, I’m not so sure a sparkling vampire is actually cool. Three, I’m not the _hot chick_ , Jesus Kaner.”

“Whatever, Johnny, you totally are. Except like, she totally wanted to bang him and he’s the one holding back. This way it’s the opposite.”

“Shut _up_. That’s it -- if we’re going to date, I’m putting a ban on Twilight.”

There’s a long pause. “…you wouldn’t _dare_.”

“Try me.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t accept.”

They spend a lot of time that week arguing over fictional characters in a terrible novel that Johnny refuses to ever read, and then he’s finally off the crutches that Saturday, using just the brace. He goes out with Kaner, Marchy, Tyler, David, and the guys to Sports Plus in celebration. All he can do is play some video games but it’s still fun; they mostly just sit at the food court and bullshit, Kaner’s ankle locked around his under the table. 

Kesler walks by halfway through their eating and laughs, loudly. 

“I mean, really, Kaner, can’t this be considered mutiny or something? How are we supposed to know you’re not sharing all of our team’s strategies?”

Kaner’s lips curl in a sarcastic smile. “Kes, can we stop fucking pretending we give two shits about each other? And can you stop pretending like we’re playing for the Stanley fucking Cup? I have new friends; you’re graduating in a few months. Fucking deal with change like an adult.”

Kesler grinds his teeth and purses his lips together. “Whatever, man. Fine. See you on the ice.”

Johnny puts his hand on Kaner’s knee as he grins brilliantly. “Well, that felt fucking good.”

Everyone around them laughs but Johnny just squeezes Kaner’s knee while Kaner covers his hand with his own.

Johnny’s knee still isn’t perfect yet so he’s not taking his car to school. He takes the bus with David in the morning that Monday but during the day Kaner texts him that he can pick him up and they could chill out at his house if Johnny felt like it.

When he steps into the hall of Kaner’s house it’s eerily quiet. 

“Is your family here?”

Kaner turns to him, still standing near the door. “Uh. No. My parents are working and my sisters are all at after school shit for a few hours.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, thickly, mouth suddenly dry.

Kaner flushes and Johnny watches as he scratches nervously at the back of his neck.

“Uh, I didn’t. That’s not why--”

“Patrick,” Johnny says, his voice rough like sandpaper. “Get over here.”

Kaner moves forward a few steps and Johnny’s already reaching for him, hooking a hand around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss that’s nothing like their first. Their tongues meet automatically, open-mouthed and dirty and Kaner moans against him, his fingers twisting in Johnny’s t-shirt as he stumbles a little, his leg knocking into Johnny’s knee. 

“Ow,” Johnny says against his mouth. 

“Fuck, sorry,” Kaner pants against him.

Johnny bites down his lower lip and they both stop thinking about anything else. His arms slide around Kaner’s waist while Kaner’s other hand cups the back of his neck, kissing him even harder, deeper. It’s uncoordinated and amateurish and Johnny loves every second of it. 

“Do you want to go to your room?” Johnny gasps when they break apart, his dick already throbbing in his jeans. 

“What kind of a girl do you think I am?” Kaner gasps in mock-horror. 

“The kind who is gonna blow this if you’re not careful.”

Kaner’s eyes, which are darker than usual, dance mischievously. He drags his dick against Johnny’s thigh. “Oh, I’ll blow something alright.”

Johnny groans in disgust. 

“Oh come on, Johnny, you set me up for that! How could I not?” 

He bites down on Kaner’s earlobe. “Remind me why I agreed to this again?”

“Because I’m the Edward to your Bella.”

“Oh my God, just shut up, please.”

“Make me,” Kaner says, and Johnny does. 

They end up making it to Kaner’s room, somehow. Johnny nearly blows his knee out again in the process of getting up the stairs while still trying to kiss, and then they’re on his bed, lying on their sides while Kaner attempts to angle his body away from Johnny so as not to hurt him again. Finally Johnny just throws his good leg over Kaner’s thigh and they grind together, kissing a little desperately, wetly, gasping for breath. 

Johnny starts fumbling for his zipper and Kaner moans, his dick leaping against his fingers. “Patrick. Let me touch you,” Johnny practically begs and Kaner thrusts his hips forward. 

“Fuck, _yes_. No complaints here.”

Johnny gets Kaner’s dick out and then his own because he doesn’t trust Kaner not to knock into his knee in his eagerness. 

They slick up their palms and jerk each other off while biting at one another’s mouths and sighing against each other’s skin. 

Kaner comes first with a choked off sob that could be Johnny’s name. Johnny comes a few seconds later, a strangled moan half caught in his throat as Kaner jerks him roughly through it and they kiss open-mouthed and dirty while Kaner thumbs the head of his cock.

Kaner throws a few tissues at him and they clean up half-heartedly, bodies stil. boneless. Then they lay together in a loose embrace, facing each other and kissing slowly, languidly, until they’re just resting their heads together and sharing one another’s breath. 

It’s a little odd to Johnny, but mostly kinda awesome too. It’s like they fit there, together.

They shift so their faces are pressed against each other’s necks while Johnny traces random patterns on Kaner’s ribcage. 

“You should be playing on my wing,” Johnny murmurs against him. 

Kaner laughs, shakily, his body still trembling slightly. Johnny loves that he caused that. “Why, so you could boss me around on the ice?”

“No. Well, not totally.”

Kaner swats at him and Johnny scrapes his teeth against his neck. 

“Because that’s just how it should be,” Johnny says, softly. 

“Mmm. Maybe in college. You’ll already be captain by the time I get there. That’ll be hot; power difference.”

Johnny smiles at the thought of the future, together. “Who says I’ll be captain?”

 _Or that we’ll be going to the same school_ he thinks, sullenly. 

Kaner bites his shoulder, as if he knows where Johnny’s mind is headed. “Please, it’s meant to be,” Kaner says, softly, yet pointedly. 

Yeah, Johnny thinks, pulling him even closer. It is.

END


End file.
